


Temporarily Yours

by waffleprince



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual America/England (Hetalia), Fake/Pretend Relationship, Human America (Hetalia), Human England (Hetalia), Humor, M/M, Past England/France (Hetalia), Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:01:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 108,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25623319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waffleprince/pseuds/waffleprince
Summary: For a straight guy who's afraid of commitments, getting a "boyfriend" might just be his only escape. Human AU. USxWaiter!UK (originally posted on ff net by Parapo on)
Relationships: America/England (Hetalia)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

Alfred Jones needed to be gay. 

It wasn't really planned but there really was no turning back anymore. He already had this act of his started and it all began when he kissed a random British waiter assigned to serve the table next to them at one of the elite restaurants in the city. He didn't know why he did that, his body simply moved on its own without his mind creating a final decision. All he knew was that the moment said waiter accidentally made eye contact with him, he was the perfect escape to his current situation.

Everything started in an early evening, when he and his family were dining together with another. Alfred was quiet throughout the evening as he let his parents do all the talking. It wasn't normal for him to be silent but his loudness depends on whether he liked the people or not. Besides what kind of topic would he and the other couple talk about? Might as well leave them to his parents right? 

The adults would constantly laugh about jokes that he didn't get. Most of them would be about the company and other business talks. Alfred was not interested. He was only 21 and he considered himself to still be  _ too young  _ for such conversations. To be honest he was only forced to come at dinner since his parents insisted that his presence was important. Though at the moment he couldn't find anything important for he was practically ignored. Sometimes there would be mentions of his name and he would be forced to smile and chuckle just not to be rude. 

As he was trying to fix his growing boredom, he began scanning the whole restaurant and observe people. That was the best he could do. Damn his brain for forgetting to slip his PSP in his coat pockets. Now he was forced to make fun of people inside his mind which admittedly he quite enjoyed at times. 

"I would prefer this one sir. If you wish for an intoxicating taste then this would preferably be the best out of others." Alfred's head perked up and automatically turned to where the voice came. It immediately caught his attention for the accent was different and was strong. British he quickly assumed it to be and he doubted he was wrong because it really sounded like it. "This would be the perfect wine to go with it." So, it belonged to the waiter whose back was turned against him. He couldn't see his face, all he knew was that the waiter was blond. That was it. After that his eyes began travelling somewhere again though his ears remained aware of the British man's presence and still was listening to its accent. It had been a while since Alfred had gone to the UK since he would rather pick up French girls for according to his experiences they were much more daring than others without being too slutty. 

A tap on the shoulder drifted Alfred's attention back to dinner. "Alfred my dear..." His mother began with a very sweet smile on her face. "I suppose you remember Ashley?"  _ What Ashley?  _ He thought. He didn't directly answer his mother; his only response was a smile as he looked back down at his plate while he put thought on it. He had met many Ashley's in his life. Which Ashley was his mother referring to? 

And then a lady suddenly sits down across from him as she greeted his parents. "Good Evening..." When Alfred saw her, that was when he knew which Ashley it was. 

"I hope you still do remember me." She began and Alfred smiled.  _ " _ Of course I do. How could I forget? _ " H _ e laughed at himself inwardly for he knew very well the answer. 

"I'm glad you still do my dear." His mother said. "Ashley's such a fine lady to forget. Such a rare beauty actually." 

"You compliment our daughter too much." Her mother, Mrs. Remington if Alfred's memory could remember correctly (for he really didn't care), Remington was their family name. 

"But it's true!" And the adults had another set of laughter leaving Ashley flattered and Alfred pretending to care. 

Minutes and minutes passed as the two families conversed with each other which mostly revolved around the topics of business, gossips about other families and companies, sometimes even their plans on going on a trip to other countries. It simply revolved around those that Alfred had to try and prevent himself from falling asleep then and there. 

But there was this one topic that had him jolted awake and fully aware. It was a question but not really a question. 

"How about the both of you be married?" He nearly choked on the cake he was eating. 

"Mom what are you saying?" He looked at her trying to hide his disbelief. 

"Oh come on, you two would look good together!" 

"I wouldn't deny that." Ashley's parents agreed and Alfred mentally choked them for agreeing. "You're a fine man Alfred Jones. We would love you for our daughter." If being a fine man meant marrying her, then Alfred thought he rather would not be. He appreciated the compliment though. 

"Actually we've talked about this arrangement a year ago. When the both of you turn 21 it would be the perfect age for marriage." 

Alfred wanted to protest. He looked at Ashley to ask for help and hoped for resistance but was pissed to see her blushing madly before him. The girl had a crush on him he could clearly say and it wasn't going to help even a bit. He didn't want to marry her. He still considered himself too young for marrying and he didn't even like the girl in the first place. She wasn't his type. 

"I'm so excited for you dears!" 

"Mom I'm sorry but no!" Alfred placed his fork down and looked at his parents intently. "I'm not marrying anyone." And there goes their shocked faces that the young man expected to get from them. 

"Is there something wrong with our daughter Alfred?" The voice of Ashley's father was firm and threatening but there was no way he was going to fall for that. 

"Nothing Mr. Remington. In fact she's such a fine and lovely lady. But I simply cannot marry your daughter." 

"Then state your reason son. The last time we had you arranged you turned it down without second thoughts. There must be a proper reason for you turning down proposals like this." It was now his father speaking and Alfred knew how scarier his father was than the other male. Still he wasn't going to back down. But what reason could he give them? First he thought about calling one of the girls who gave them their number to him. But as he thought about it, that would make him committed to them and he was afraid they might take him seriously. He wasn't into commitments yet, "Well son? We're all waiting for your answer." 

" _ Would you like anything else? _ " He heard the strong accent again and his mind began to make a ridiculous idea. He inwardly debated with himself as he tried to keep his nerves calm. The stares he was receiving from both her parents and his was making him feel like he was carrying a thousand cows on his back. 

"Alfred-" 

"I'm gay." 

The expression painted on the adults including Ashley's face was priceless that he had to stop himself from bursting into laughter. "What are you saying?" 

"You heard me dad. I'm  _ gay."  _ He strongly emphasized the last word. 

"You can't be serious!" 

"I am serious! And in fact the only reason I agreed to go with you in this restaurant was because of a... a uh... certain someone!" 

"Certain someone?" Ashley speaks with her soft and gently voice. "By that, you mean...b-boy-" 

"Boyfriend yes." And their expression were once more unexplainable and extremely funny for Alfred but laughing would have to come much much later. His eyes drifted at the waiter on the other table who coincidentally turned his head and their eyes met for a brief second. Alfred smiled. The man wasn't ugly or anything. There was no time to search the restaurant and make deals with random men. The waiter would do for the moment, he thought. 

And so he stood up and pulled the waiter who was extremely surprised as well as the diners he was serving. "Please excuse us." He said to the the confused couple the waiter was currently entertaining before he was pulled away. 

"Sir?" He exclaimed. "I'm sorry but-" 

"Shh. What's your name?" He asked in a hushed voice. 

"Arthur sir. Why?" Alfred smiled. 

He snaked an arm around the other's torso as he led him to their table without removing his arm on him. 

"Mom, dad. Meet Arthur, my boyfriend." And without second thoughts he pulled the confused British waiter into a deep kiss. 

Alfred's parents, Ashley and her parents, their eyes were all wide and if it was possible for their jaws to hit the floor, then it would've been there by now. But of course they weren't the only ones who were utterly shocked by the kiss. The poor waiter who was forced into it, Arthur, had the same wide eyes as theirs. His green eyes even looked like they were to pop out any second from their eye sockets. He was frozen, frozen from head to toe for he never expected this. Never in his life did he expect to be kissed by someone of the same gender because clearly  _ Arthur Kirkland was not gay.  _

The kiss finally ended which left both males panting. Yes it was  _ that  _ long. 

"I hope that's enough proof for you folks. Now if you don't mind we have a date for tonight. Bye!" Alfred smiled as he intertwined his fingers with Arthur who was still too shocked to react. The American took advantage of this as he pulled Arthur out of the elite diner, leaving his companions and their jaws in mid-air. He secretly even wished for some kind of insect to enter their mouths. 

And from then on he needed to be gay. 

"BUT I AM NOT GAY AND I CAN'T BE GAY DO YOU BLOODY UNDERSTAND?" 

"DUDE CHILL!" Alfred was beginning to lose his temper at the shorter man who he still was trying to calm down and protect himself from. His hands were holding firmly on each of Arthur's wrists just for him not to be able to send his hands flying to Alfred's face. 

"And how will I  _ chill  _ after all this!? Huh!? Bastard!" 

"Look! I'll pay you a good amount of money alright!" 

"And what about my dignity  _ sir? _ " He glared as much as he could at the taller one, not intimidated by the height difference. "All my life I've never been gay and never did I plan to then you would suddenly enter and tell me, ' _ hey I kissed you and now be gay for me'  _ and shit! Can't you just find someone else who is truly homo!?" 

"Dude! If I hire a real homo what would I do if that guy falls in love with me for real? I'm handsome alright! Besides, you're the one that I kissed in front of my parents!" 

"Damn it why did it have to be me!?" 

"Well you're the nearest guy!" 

"Still-" 

"$1000 dollars for every date! Still low enough?" And the struggling stops as Arthur heard the price. He looked directly at Alfred's blue eyes. 

"Are you serious!?" 

"Serious as hell dude! I'm in desperate need of a...a..." He couldn't even say it and was even disgusted to say it. "...a boyfriend. Damn it please I really really need help right now! And I'm paying you a fair price so no one goes home defeated right?" 

"$1000 dollars no joke?" 

"No joke dude. And all you have to do is to hold hands with me, for 1000." Alfred knew that Arthur was slowly taking a bite on his offer. Just a little more and he would have a fake boyfriend. He let go of Arthur's wrist, trusting that he would have his fists quietly hanging on his sides. "What do you say?" 

"What's your name sir?" 

"Alfred. Alfred Jones, son of the one and only owner of-" 

"I only asked your name." He was cut off coldly by that strong British accent of the other. There was no way he would speak with him with respect after what he has done to him even if he was a son of a very wealthy family. 

Silence reined the empty parking lot where Alfred had him pulled with force. There would be cars that would pass by which were the only ones breaking the silence. The taller of the two was getting impatient as he tapped his toe against the ground. What was taking the other too long to say yes? Wasn't the amount he offered enough? 

On the other hand as Alfred thought of more ways to convince him, Arthur was thinking about how he would benefit from the deal. All he had to do was hold Alfred's hand and stick close to him, but then what would the others think about him? 

A lot of e wayxplaining would take place. And then the image of his little brother flashed in his mind. He needed money, the first day of school was getting nearer and there was no way Arthur would allow his brother to stop his education. He didn't want for his brother to experience what he did for Arthur only finished high school. 

With that in thought, he looked at Alfred, still glaring though. He was hesitating but if it was for his brother, this wasn't really bad. He took in a deep breath as Alfred looked at him full of hope. 

"All I have to do is hold your hand right?" 

"Yeah." 

"No hugs and kisses?" 

"None unless extremely necessary.... Well of course there's another pay for that!" He quickly added upon seeing Arthur's face look displeased and hesitant even more. 

"I see..." He can't believe he was going to agree with this. A hand ran through his already messy hair and sighed. He even failed to think about what worst things would this deal bring him. With a roll of his eyes as he was annoyed with himself, he needed to be gay. 

"So Alfred...  _ When do I start?"  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For people who found this fic offensive I'm sorry. I do not wish to offend or insult anyone especially those who are part of the LGBT community. I am not against it any way, otherwise I wouldn't be writing this. 
> 
> There are words here that some may find insulting and think that I should I die but I just want to say that I based it on reality. It was from my own observations as to how straight guys deal and see gay men without being homophobic and it includes stereotyping (since they don't have a clue what it's like) but not in a bad way. We're dealing with straight (at first) characters here. 
> 
> It is true that Katy Perry's song Ur so Gay gave me the idea but let me clear that I focused only on the title of the song and not on its message. I wasn't even listening to it when I wrote this. I just saw the title randomly at a list. 
> 
> I read some reviews concerning this so I decided to put this little note here in chapter one. 
> 
> Again I'm sorry to those feelings I hurt. It wasn't intentional. 
> 
> For future readers, thank you for giving this a chance and I hope you'll like it. :) Rock On.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yey It stopped raining in here!

"Enjoyed your  _ date  _ son?" Alfred froze as he heard his father's voice. It sounded calm, it sounded care-free, but he knew better. The calmer his father talked to him, the more pissed off he was. He was now mentally strangling himself for choosing to come home at their main; he should've just gone straight to his own condo unit. If it weren't for the important files he was going to need the next morning, and if it weren't for his gadgets, he wouldn't have gone back. As the lights went on he straightened his back and faced his father with an equally casual smile. 

"Sure did dad. Twas fun." 

"I see." Mr. Jones took a sip from the glass of wine he was holding which Alfred hadn't really noticed. 

Boy, did Alfred felt like he wasn't 21. He saw himself in the same situation he was 5-10 years ago. When his mind was thinking worse than he was now. At least Alfred thought he already matured, his father and almost everyone in the household though thought the opposite. Loud as he was, Alfred grew uncomfortable with the silence and not wanting to bear with it longer he cleared his throat loudly before he spoke. "So... Dad... It's already late right now I'm really tired so I guess I'll be going upstairs now! Goodnight!" He spoke as fast as he could without his smile faltering, advancing a step with every word. 

"That is how you greet your father who waited for you,  _ worried _ , until past the middle of the night?" 

_ Shit it was past 12?  _ Alfred thought. He didn't realize he took that long outside. He didn't went home right after he parted with Arthur; he chose to spend the rest of the night bar hopping, drinking and getting tipsy as he danced with random girls. Originally he planned on staying out a little late for that night just to make the  _ date  _ thing realistic. If he went home early then wouldn't that be suspicious? He just enjoyed too much. 

"Well..." He breathed; bit his lips before plopping down the sofa across his father. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting dad but hey I'm a grown up now, you didn't need to worry too much you know." He tried to relax as he leaned back and crossed his legs. 

"I know that very well son." 

"Then why did you stay up late?" He asked as he tried to contain himself. He hated being questioned. It will be a long night, he knew. His eyes followed as the glass of wine was lowered to the table that was separating him and his dad. 

"Well I don't know... Thinking maybe?" His father looked at him straight in the eye. "Thinking about my son, whom I raised for... How old are you now? 21 right?" Alfred only rolled his eyes in response. "My son whom I raised for 21 years, whom I've seen grow up into a  _ proper man  _ supposedly... turned out to be  _ gay. _ " He noticed how his father's voice almost squeaked at the last word. It even looked like he was can't even say the word. He never heard of his father being homophobic though. 

"Uh... Surprise?" 

"Are you fucking with me?" Alfred quirked a brow, amused. It was rare for his father to curse at him in conversations; well except when they both were watching sports game on T.V. or live. His voice sounded desperate and pleading, wanting Alfred to deny everything he said back at the diner. 

"Sorry dad, but I'm not kidding." He fought his own will of telling him everything was a lie. 

"You know I'm not gonna get angry for that  _ joke.  _ Just tell me that-" 

"Dad I said I'm-" 

"..—that you were just pulling a prank on me and your-" 

"Dad I'm-" 

"..—mother and the Remingtons. Heck I would even... even  _ laugh  _ you know-" 

"DAD I'M GAY!" 

Alfred was surprised on how loud he had said that. It was a shout actually and he cannot believe himself to say it that 

loud! He even cannot believe he had that sentence spoken once again... did I mention loud? Alfred swore and he heard his father swore louder than him. Both of them refused to believe what they both just heard. Oh he swore to every living creature that that would be the last time he was going to say that. Though of course he knew it would be inevitable. 

"What is wrong with you two? Shouting in the middle of the night, how rude!" Both their heads lifted up as they watched the Madam of the house, Mrs. Jones entered their personal living room (because yes, they had several other living rooms for they were rich). She had her long blonde hair under a shower cap and her face had some kind of cream on it, a beauty mask the two males supposed which made her face green. Inwardly, Mr. Jones had his wife's face listed on the reasons why he still wasn't sleeping. It wasn't only because of Alfred because honestly, he was willing to talk about the matter the following day at breakfast. Anyway, back to the topic at hand... 

"Hi mom." 

"Well  _ hi  _ Alfred." She settled beside her husband who slowly inched away from her unnoticed. "How was your  _ date  _ sweetie?" 

"Fine." 

"Then why do you look so-" 

"Damn it Sandra your son is  _ gay _ !" His father interrupted with his hands clutching his own hair. 

"Well David, I know and I haven't forgotten." 

"Oh my gosh mom you support me?" 

"Shut up darling." Alfred's glee was immediately cut off. His mother could really be harsh sometimes. Actually with the way they talk, he didn't want to believe that they were a family which belonged with the higher class for their words and way of speaking often contradicted their status especially when the family was left alone. Though Alfred still believed it was more fun that way, "Anyway, since your father here is already freaked out, how about you let me handle your story instead?" 

"Story?" 

"Yes dear. I want to know how and when you knew and you realized you aren't straight anymore because I'm perfectly sure you were straight just a few weeks ago... Proved out to be wrong though. Anyways, story?" 

Story?  _ What story?  _ He thought. What story would he offer? The first level of the gay act finally arrived. The story-making level, as Alfred had classified. He just didn't think it was going to be that soon. He was planning to make a story up using the whole night time and be ready with it at breakfast. Now where the hell was he going to dig up a homosexual love story? 

"Well uh..." He barely even started when his father stood up, only to be grabbed back by his mother. 

"Sit down and listen honey!" 

"Look, I'm listening to nothing okay?" He said firmly as he stood up again, this time pulling his wife with him. "It's already late and I'm sleepy as hell. Whatever story you have my son, I'll listen to it tomorrow but  _ not during breakfast.  _ I wouldn't want to lose my appetite for bacon." He paused and looked at Alfred straight in the eye. "Also... Bring me your boyfriend tomorrow." 

"What!?" Alfred stood up in surprise. "To—tomorrow? You want to meet him... Tomorrow?" 

"You heard me young man! Geez, I'm gonna have a headache with this." 

"That's because you think about it too much." Her mother scolded. "Whatever, that's it for tonight. Up we go now. The same with you Alfred. We'll deal with this tomorrow." And with that he watched as his parents disappeared on the doors. He let his knees retire and his body fell with a soft thud on the couch. 

He wanted to strangle someone at the moment; he even thought about doing it on himself but chose not to. That would be ridiculous. Man, Alfred was already stressed and tot think that 12 hours hadn't even passed. He expected for that kind of situation to come, the introduction and all, to happen at least the day after tomorrow. He didn't know it was a gigantic deal to his parents, especially his father. But he was an idiot to think they would let it pass as easy as he imagined. 

He had his phone out from his pocket and stared at it. Good thing he got Arthur's number before they part. Thinking about 

what happened earlier at the parking lot, he touched his left cheek which was still stinging because of Arthur's punch... Yeah, he was punched by Arthur unexpectedly. 

" _ Ow! What the hell was that for? _ " 

" _ That was for the kiss you git. I suppose you weren't planning to pay that."  _

" _ Then you could've just told me to pay!"  _

" _ Was supposed to, but then I figured out, punching you in the face was a better idea."  _

He chuckled for did not expect the small British man to have such strength. Alfred was thankful that it didn't bruise though especially that he tasted a bit of blood after the other's fist got in contact with the his cheek. 

Back to the matter at hand, he had Arthur's number dialed. 

Looks like their  _ date  _ was going to happen sooner than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lalala! short chapter is short. All the fun would be placed on the next chapter wohoo!   
> Sneak peek:   
> "...Why do I have to wear a scarf?"   
> "...Don't gays wear scarves all the time?"   
> "Really? How did you know? You're secretly gay aren't you?"   
> -end-   
> Thank you for the awesome reviews guys! Also for the faves and alerts! XD   
> For those reading my other fic, I'm working on it! :P And thanks again wohoo!   
> I'm open to suggestions, feel free to point out mistakes, and flame if you want if that'll make you feel better :P Till' next time dudettes! XD


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wohoo! Got too inspired lol.

The Alarm clock rang violently that the clock itself started shaking, jumping until it crashed down the floor, still ringing and shaking violently. Arthur just ignored it though; he didn't need the clock anymore because he was fully awake hours before it even rang. But even so, he didn't move and simply lay on his back as he stared at the ceiling. He just couldn't forget the phone call he got last night which he was planning to add on his list of the worst phone calls he received. 

" _ Hey Artie! Alfred here, surely you haven't forgotten me, of course you don't, who would forget me? Right? Anyway, we're having our date tomorrow, gonna pick you up around-"  _

And that was the reason why his phone was resting on the other side of the room, case opened and the battery lying somewhere near it. He didn't even let Alfred finish everything he meant to tell him because of so much irritation. Who wouldn't be pissed off greatly to hear such news in the middle of the night, the time when you were sleeping soundly, trying to relax and forget everything bad that happened for the day and freshen your mind. All of that only to be disturbed by a stupid and loud American who suddenly popped up in your life, asking you to be gay for him. 

" _ Brother! Get in here, breakfast is ready!"  _

Many things were now flooding his brain, full of assumptions and predictions to what could happen that day. Surely, Alfred wouldn't call him if the  _ date  _ wasn't needed. There must be something that happened which required them going out instantly without him having the time to prepare and figure out how he would act all gay. Besides that, he still needed to explain everything to his co-workers who all witnesses the  _ unexpected bloody kiss  _ back at the restaurant. 

"Brother! You'll be late for work, get up!" His door swung open and banged loudly as it hit the wall which made Arthur sit up in surprise. There was his brother standing, tapping a foot impatiently with his hands occupied with food with its smell floating and mixing with the air they breathed. 

"Pancakes again...for breakfast? Seriously Peter?" 

"Yep and you have no right to complain since you can't even cook Now get up or else I'll gobble these entire up!" And with that his brother stomped out back in their dining to prepare the table. 

That was his brother as mentioned plenty of times, that was his brother. He spoke just like Arthur, sarcasm and other words would be pouring out from him every once in a while. They looked like they never had peace between them, but they got along just fine. 

Not wanting to hear more of his younger brother's rambling, Arthur forced himself to crawl out of bed, kicking the alarm clock under his bed. 

When he got out of the room all done and dressed up for the day, Peter was still eating. He sat down across him, his eyes on the plate of pancakes his brother cooked for him. 

"There are only 2 left." 

"You don't say brother?" 

"There were 8..." 

"I ate the other 6 just in case you can't tell." With that, Arthur stood up and reached for Peter on the other side, grasping a handful of hair and pulling it as he ignored the other's cry. "Damn it bro! I'm hungry!" 

"You think you're the only one?" 

"You were taking so long in the shower, I can't help myself!" He began pinching Arthur's arm, hoping that it would let go from the pain he was causing but his efforts were ignored despite his hands formed red marks on the order's skin. Sometimes he wondered whether his brother really had human skin or not, he didn't seem to feel pain from his attacks. "Come on! I woke up very early just to tame my hair! Don't ruin it or else-" 

"Wow, the last time I remember you caring for your hair was... never?" Arthur finally let go much to the other's relief. He took the whole plate and began pouring just the right amount of syrup while on the other side of the table, Peter was 

trying to fix his hair again. 

"Can't a guy try to look good once in a while?" He pouted at his brother. 

"Look good? Since when did you start caring about your looks? Unless..." Arthur placed down his fork and looked at his brother with a teasing look. "Unless you have someone, let's say, a girl to impress?" And he knew he was right just from his brother's embarrassed reaction; flushed cheeks, averted eyes, his mouth open as he tried to speak but no words came out. "Oh Peter, you finally grew up." 

"Shut up." He tried to bite back but he knew he wouldn't win against his brother, not like that... "Is..is there something wrong with.. that?" 

"Oh hell no." Arthur began eating again. "You're already 15, it's natural. To be honest when I had my first crush I was only 10." 

"Really?" 

"Really." 

"Oh yeah... I remember you had a girlfriend once..."He smiled as he saw his brother looked expectantly at him, knowing what was going on in that teenage mind of his. He sighed. "I know what you're thinking lad." 

"I know that you know what I'm thinking." He smiled brighter as he leaned nearer to him excitedly. "Please?" His blue eyes sparkled, knowing that his brother cannot refuse him. His brother never was able to refuse him when he asked for help, but of course he never did abuse it. "Just give me tips, random tips or anything!" 

"Tips huh?" Arthur stopped eating for a moment as he thought of what advice he could give his brother. "Never speak American." Earning a confused look from his brother, he sighed as he finished the very last of his food before standing up to gather the plates as he spoke. "I mean, stick to your accent Peter. May sound normal for us but for others, our accent is very,  _ very sexy _ ." He paused and turned around, a little surprised to see Peter literally taking down the things he was saying with a pencil and a small piece of paper which he had no idea where and when Peter got those. He chuckled before placing the dishes on their kitchen sink. 

"Oh and your eyebrows, don't trim them. Only  _ fags  _ do that." And as he said the last line, his breath almost hitched as he remembered what was to come for the day. He even thought about killing Alfred if ever he was asked to shave his brows. 

"And be friends with her first, make her comfortable around you." 

"Got it." 

"Oh and Peter..." 

"Yep?" 

"Wash the dishes..." 

"Wash the—What?" Peter's head looked up at his brother in disbelief. "But brother~~" He whined but Arthur only clicked his tongue. 

"You ate more than what was intended for you, and I even am giving you tips so you wash the dishes." The younger of the two pouted but it only made Arthur laugh. He walked past Peter, his hand messing with Peter's hair on the process. "Messy hair also adds up to a guy's looks. Don't comb it too much." He said before disappearing into his room again to pack his things up, leaving his brother alone in the kitchen to do the dishes against his will. 

That was his brother, his only family, and the only reason for what he was going to turn himself into... 

He braced for the teasing that was to come once he entered the back door of the restaurant, where all the staff prepared themselves. The door was already face to face with him, his hand on the knob just waiting for his command to turn it. 

Arthur breathed heavily, he wasn't prepared for this. 

But nothing would happen, he knew, if he was just going to stand there, stare at the door and do nothing. It's not like being absent was necessary. There were salary deductions every time a staff would be absent regardless of the reason. So once again he breathed in, and then out before braving inside the staff room. 

"Oh! Hey there Arthur! Good Morning, I thought you weren't coming!" A female voice greeted him with so much delight as if he was the sunshine of the room. The name's Elizabetha, though she preferred being called by her nickname since it was shorter. She was one of the chef's in the restaurant and had the same shift as Arthur which was 9am-2pm, and from 3pm-8pm. 

"Good morning Liz." He smiled back at her. "I wasn't sick or anything, why would I be absent?" 

"Well, you're later than usual, not that you're late already but you know..." Arthur turned to glance at the wall clock that was designed like a frying pan. It was already quarter to 9, usually he would arrive an hour before his shift. He sighed but before he could even answer, another voice, male this time, interrupted the calm atmosphere in the room. 

"Oh Look! The  _ princess  _ finally arrived!" Another voice came as a tall figure with dark red hair entered the room. A smirk painted on his face as he sat beside Arthur. This was one person he absolutely didn't want to see. Scott, one of the restaurants' musicians. "Such a lovely story you had last night, with your  _ prince charming  _ taking you away into the moonlight. How romantic! Ooh I bet you had...." The rest of the sentence was whispered which made Arthur turn madly red; his hands eventually on the other's neck. 

"What the hell? Princess your arse Scott, I have no  _ prince  _ and no such  _ thing happened! _ " 

"Ugh, too tight Arthur!" He finally let go of the fellow European. 

"Look, I'll explain ok? I'm not-" Before he could even start, he was immediately cut off by another girl who eventually threw herself to him in a hug. 

"Oh my gosh! Arthur! You're okay! I thought you weren't coming anymore! Gosh!" She was another musician of the diner, in charge for playing the flute and other wind instruments. Her hands tilted his head left and right, even upwards. 

"Bella, what are you doing?" He asked confused. 

"Looking for bite marks..." 

"Bite marks?" 

"Yeah! Bite marks, the one you get when you have sex." Arthur slapped her hands away from him as he stepped away. 

"Sex? What the hell?" 

"Yeah! Didn't you have sex last night? You know, with that rich dude?" She asked ever so innocently, a strong contradiction to the words that came out of her mouth. 

"What? No! NO! Why the hell will I have...have..." When he knew he couldn't even finish his sentence anymore, he sat down with his hands massaging his temples as the others gathered around him which made everything a lot more awkward for him. "Look, I'm not gay, okay? I-" 

"HEY KIRKLAND DIDN'T KNOW YOU SUCK COCK!" Another voice, the most irritating voice for Arthur and its owner busted suddenly in the room along with some other workmates whom Arthur was at least thankful for, because at least they were calmer and a lot more quiet than the white-haired German. 

"Fuck you Gilbert, I certainly do not!" 

"Yeah right maggot! Or should I say...  _ fag _ got!" His laugh echoed as a hand slapped Arthur's back strongly sending the Brit forward. 

And, that was Gilbert, a fellow waiter, the least person that Arthur wished to encounter for the day. He was known for his over grown self-love and a very loud mouth. He was the king of unnecessary teasing as well. "I bet you and your  _ boyfriend  _ had-" 

"Shut up white-head. He's trying to explain!" A frying pan landed on his head which finally made him shut up much to the Brit's relief. 

"Thanks Liz.. So as I was saying.. I am... most  _ certainly not homosexual.  _ I'm not gay, I'm not a fag, and I'm  _ straight!  _ Straighter than straightest line existing!" He made sure to emphasize his point with the stressed words. And before any questions were raised, he began to speak again, carefully explaining his current dilemma. But then things weren't going smoothly as planned for Arthur when.. 

"Hey, is Arthur here!?" A fellow waiter by the name of Mathias entered the room, an empty tray in his hands. 

"Here! Why?" 

"Someone's looking for-" He wasn't even able to finish the sentence when someone pushed him out of the way. Someone whom Arthur wasn't expecting to see  _ early in the morning at his work  _ place _.  _

"The hell Alfred?" 

"ARTIE!? Damn it let's go!" He was yanked out of his seat, an arm pulling him strongly that he can't even pull himself back. Arthur looked horrified to what was happening. He was just in the middle of his explanation. Fighting for his original sexuality and getting them really convinced, and then there came Alfred who would ruin everything up once again. The looks he got from his fellow staff's faces made him embarrassed and mad as hell. 

"Look guys! It's not what you think! I'm straight and-" 

"Artie let's go!" 

"—and this is just a big misunderstanding and-" 

"Artie!" 

"—and I'll explain everything when I get back!" He shouted desperately. 

"LET'S GO!" Alfred finally lost it and pulled Arthur with all his strength as they exit the room with the door slammed shut, which left everyone inside dumb founded, and some with evil smirks. 

"Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit!" Alfred cursed under his breath as he drove, honking his horn every second and as he overtaked. 

"You're not in the bloody position to act mad now you brat! If there's anyone who should be-" 

"Damn it we'll be late!" 

"Late? Late for what?" The car immediately stopped with force as the American hit the brakes suddenly when he knew they couldn't make it to the red light. His passenger cursed here and there as he did that. "Fuck you! Are you trying to kill us?! Damn you-" 

"We're going to meet my parents at 10 at the some other fancy restaurant I forgot the name and we only have one hour to rehearse and I need to make you look gay and-" 

Arthur slapped the other's mouth shut, his eyes wider than ever. "Meet you parents? Why didn't you tell me anything about this!? What the hell Alfred I—" 

"It's your fault for hanging up last night! And this morning I was trying to contact you the entire time but I can't! What the fuck happened to your phone!?" 

"I threw it." He said plainly making Alfred curse again. "It is your fault for disturbing me in the middle of my sleep twat." 

"Well I'm sorry but it's not like I was going to say some nonsense!" Cars behind them began blowing their horns as the two blonds argued; they hardly even noticed that the light had turned green again. If it weren't for some random driver who stopped by Alfred's window, shouting random curses, they would've been there arguing for the rest of the day. 

"Hey dude, there's a paper bag at the back seat. Go check it out." Arthur wanted to argue but decided against it, for he knew if he started an argument, it was going to take a long time before everything would end. He turned and reached for said paper bag and carefully brought out the contents. 

There was a pair of glasses coloured red, a pink scarf, a perfume for women, and earings inside. 

"Don't tell me you're making me wearing these." 

"Sorry but you're supposed to wear those." 

"Seriously!? Earrings? I haven't got any piercing you arse! And what the hell? A scarf? Why do I have to wear a scarf!?" 

"Well, don't gays wear a scarf?" 

"Really? You're secretly gay aren't you? Bollocks why pink!?" He stared in disbelief at the cloth. 

"First, I'm not gay, and pink, because duh!?" 

The next thing Arthur complained about was the earrings...  _ again.  _ Alfred wanted him to get his ears pierced, but of course the other strongly refused, and even threatened his parent's life if the other kept on insisting. After that they would argue about the different demands Alfred was throwing at Arthur such as his hair.. 

"Dude, comb your hair. Oh and put a hair band on. I think it's on the other paper bag at the back. If you want, there's also a ribbon in there." 

"Leave my hair alone!" 

And his of course, his eyebrows 

"Dude, seriously I need those eyebrows shaved, waxed, trimmed, or whatever!" 

"Try to bloody touch it and you're dead" He said as he reached for said bag. 

"Oh dude! I bought some fashionable bangles in there. And a lip-gloss, and some kind of powder with a foam!" 

"Are you trying to make me a girl!?" Arthur dropped the things on his lap and looked at it with complete disgust. 

"You're supposed to be gay, remember? Oh, yeah I bought you skinny jeans and of course doll shoes to go with it." 

"I'm not wearing doll shoes! Fuck this." He threw the makeup back inside along with the earrings and the shoes. And then he threw everything back at the backseat leaving the pink scarf on his lap.  _ Only  _ the pink scarf. Alfred sighed in defeat for he knew how hard everything was going to be. Just to have any progress, he decided to explain and tell Arthur their  _ script  _ for the day. 

. "Okay so... Artie...  _ This is how we met _ ..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, Thank you very much! XD Sorry for the grammatical errors. I'll edit this later on. wohooo!   
> ...R&R! Open to different kind of suggestions and reactions.   
> I enjoyed writing the Kirkland brothers' scene. I also want a big brooo! T_T (the curse of being the eldest...)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> errmhergerd~ Thanks for the awesome reviews! Didn't expect you guys would like this lololoool~ Thanks for the faves and alerts as well! woo!

A pair of purple eyes gazed out the window from the passenger seat of the car, pouting lips matched the glumness of it. Ashley stared bitterly at the couples that would pass by her, completely unaware of the eyes that would follow them until they are nowhere from the owner's sight. She would grit her teeth at them, cursing at them deep inside and even fantasize about them breaking up. 

" _ I swear you'll get hit by a car... _ " She hissed under her breath as another pair walks by, hand in hand with huge smiles on their faces. " _ Ooh I swear to- _ " 

"You know if I wasn't your sister, I would've run away from you already." She turned her head, glaring at the other female who was busy putting on makeup with the guidance of the rear view mirror. 

"Shut up Jillian. You know I have all the right to-" 

"Bitter as ever..." The older clicks her tongue, "There's like, so many guys out there. Get over that Jones dude." She rolled her eyes. 

"No! He's the only one for me! We're soul mates!" Ashley yelled, her high pitched voice making Jillian flinch causing her hand to miss and the mascara drawing a line on her cheek. She clicked her tongue in annoyance; oh how hard was it to be a girl? She glares at her younger sis with the matching biting of her lips that looked like that of a Bratz doll. Despite the glares though, Ashley continued on rambling about how bad and embarrassing it was to be exchanged for a guy. "I mean,  _ hello!  _ He chose me over a  _ guy! A GUY! _ " And she slumped down with her arms crossed while she ran after her breath. 

"...You done?" 

"Damn it, don't you care about me at all?" 

"Right, and you care about my make up..." She began cleaning up the mess with a tissue. "Anyways-" 

"What does he have that I don't?!" 

Jillian rolled her eyes. When was this rambling going to stop? "Well, knowing the fact that you both don't have  _ boobs _ ," That was a very bad thing to say and Ashley couldn't help but gasp and touch her chest. "..I would assume that the guy had something hanging off like,  _ down there,  _ and you don't." Another roll of her eyes as she stated it as-a-matter-of-factly. "Obviously sis, Alfred likes to suck and you don't have anything he could suck so-" 

"What the hell is wrong with you?" 

"I was answering your question! Remember?  _ 'What does he have that I don't?'... _ " She said, imitating Ashley's tone and voice, she even cared to pause her lipstick application just to imitate her perfectly, knowing it would annoy her. 

Meanwhile, Ashley still felt down about her  _ lacking  _ of chest. Since when did she have a flat chest? She was always confident with her body but now, she was having second thoughts about it. When she turned her eyes to her sister who was, once again back to her cosmetic business with her face, she couldn't help but cast her eyes  _ there  _ and wondered how come her sister inherited their mother's largeness and she didn't. Was she adopted? 

"You know..." Jillian spoke upon noticing her sister's stare at her chest, "You could always get two of these. There are like, so many doctors out there." 

"I don't wanna get operated! That's too scary Jill!" A shrug was the only reply. 

She sighed and turned to her window and continued to watch the couples that passed by. Oh how jealous she was. She began counting them like sheep just to pass the time. They were all so sweet with each other, especially the two blonde guys from across the- 

"Oh. My. Gosh." She quickly rolled the window down upon realizing who the two were. "Oh. My. Fucking. Gosh! Jillian!" 

"What is it this time?" 

"Look! Damn it look!" She slapped her sister's arm just to get her attention. "It's them!" 

It was Alfred and Arthur. 

"Oh my gosh are they gonna kiss?" Jillian's attention was now caught when she saw the two. They were facing each other and Alfred's hands were on the shorter blonde's shoulders, and he was smiling. 

"No! I won't allow that!" 

"Then what are they talking about? 

"Shh! Just watch!" 

"Okay, don't you forget anything we rehearsed!" Alfred smiled, for some reason he was excited about the whole thing. It was like the ultimate prank he was going to pull. 

"I'm not a git like you. Darn why are you even happy?" 

"Well,  _ we need  _ to be happy! We're a couple remember?" Arthur sighed. He really hated that word right now, and his outfit wasn't helping to cool him down. Sure he won about the cosmetic argument, but then he was forced to wear the skinny jeans Alfred bought for him, and on their way they stopped for a while just to buy a fitted V-neck shirt that was tucked in his maroon pants, a fashionable belt was around his waist as well. And then despite the hot sunny day, he was forced to wear the scarf. The colour made it a lot more... gay. He was mentally asking himself, do homos really dress that way? Oh well, he was lucky the shoes didn't fit him, they were too big. Apparently it was Alfred's shoe size. The American even bragged about men who have big feet... If you know what I mean... 

He glared at Alfred. He still looked like a man with his clothes despite them being fitted as well, but they weren't fitted as Arthur's because you see, every curve was being emphasized in his clothes. 

"Why do I have to appear as the woman in this relationship?" 

"Because duh?" the American flashed another bright smile that irritated the Brit so much, but before he could even wipe it off his face, he was pulled inside the doors of the restaurant with an arm around his thin waist. 

"Oh my gosh they went in!" Jillian exclaimed, completely ignoring her cosmetics kit as it fell from her lap. 

"Don't say it as if they went in a damn love motel!" 

"Whatever Ash... But hey, what could they be possibly doing in there?" This time, it was Ashley who rolled her eyes. It was like they switched places, her sister was the one to ask stupid questions now, and her to answer them annoyingly. 

"Duh? It's a date! You don't assume they'd play tetris inside." She had a hand hit her head for talking back to the older. Ashley was supposed to talk back once more but was hushed by Jillian with a finger on her lips. The long nail coloured neon yellow just like a highlighter distracting the other. 

"Hey Ash, wanna go follow them?" 

"What? You're crazy! They're going to see us!" And for the second time, a hand hits her on the head though thankfully those long dangerous nails never got into contact with her skin. 

"Stupid! Of course we're gonna hide. Oh wait, let's wear these..." Jillian brought out her orange girly kit and opened it, she took out a pair of overly sized sunglasses, the other coloured red and the other one with Leopard skin design. She hands the latter to her sister, choosing the red ones. 

"Eww, I want the red one." 

"The red one is mine. Leopard doesn't look good in my outfit okay?" Ashley begins to mumble complains, careful though for her sister not to hear. She didn't want another smack on the head. 

And carefully, they descended the car. Immediately, eyes are on them. Unbeknownst to them, people are looking at them in a weird way for their clothes are oaky but the colours, they're blinding. Who wears neon colours from head to toe in broad daylight? 

As they reach the entrance, the guard assigned to open the door can't help but close his eyes lightly. Even the 

receptionist and other staff. "Table for two please, in case you can't tell there's only two of us." Jillian said as she looked at the staff from head to toe, while Ashley was busy looking for the two males. When she found them she pointed them to her sister. "Oh, we like a sit somewhere near there but not too close. Okay?" 

The staff could only nod her head. "This way then Ma'am..." 

"So, you're Arthur. Of course you're Arthur. We met just last night, do you remember?" 

Mrs. Jones smiled sweetly at him which was helpful in reducing Arthur's nervousness. Though on the other hand, Alfred's father kept a serious face and would drink from the glass of water from time to time. He remained quiet. Arthru hoped he would remain quiet till all was over. 

"Yes ma'am, I still remember." He replies in the politest way he could. 

"Well, I must say, you aren't really ugly my dear, actually you're quite good-looking without putting on any efforts. Such a fine lad like you could do so much better and you could get any girl you want. Why our son? Why waste your looks for Alfred?" 

Upon that statement, the two already knew that the  _ interrogation  _ was officially starting. Alfred squeezed Arthur's hand which was still intertwined with him. He didn't expect his mom to ask such a question that seemed to test their feeling for each other just like in the Asian dramas. What he had prepared for was the asking for their history like, how they met, and where. Damn they weren't prepared too much. Oh how was Arthur going to answer? 

"Thank you for the compliment ma'am, but I don't believe I am wasting anything on him. Your son is an amazing person," He made eye contact with Alfred who was surprised but he managed to tighten his grip on him to snap the American away and return the gaze equally. Arthur was feeling disgusted to be honest though. "..and to tell you the truth I've questioned myself so many times if I really am right for him or not since... As you know ma'am, I'm nothing but a waiter with massive eyebrows." Oh he just didn't say that did he? He can't believe he insulted his brows which he really loved so much, so much that he wouldn't even trim them (since nothing really changed when he did once). Alfred chuckled at this though,  _ chuckled _ , as much as he wanted to laugh as hard as he could, he couldn't for it will destroy the act. But he was indeed surprised with the shorter's answer, he's pretty good with words and he didn't even stir as he said those...  _ things..  _

Arthur continued to finish his statement though and broke eye contact with those blue eyes. "... And that is why I don't really suppose I'm wasting anything. It's just right to give him the best that I've got." Resistance to puke right then and there may the angels give Arthur the power to last until everything was over. 

"Aww come on  _ babe,  _ your brows aren't that bad. Told ya it doesn't ruin anything." Alfred smirks but even with that, he truly meant it. It really didn't have any effect on the Brit's face. To be honest, Alfred thought it added up to his appeal though of course, no homo thoughts on that. 

"Whatever you say  _ love... _ " The other answered, letting his tongue slither with the last word dangerously. Clearly he didn't like being called babe by Alfred. He wasn't a  _ bloody babe  _ after all. 

"I can't believe I'm hearing such sincere words..." Mrs. Jones' eyes looked at Arthur directly, as if analyzing whether everything was true or not. The fact that it wasn't part of the script made it a little bit realistic. 

Just when she was about to speak, Mr. Jones cleared his throat a little too loudly, obvious that he had done it intentionally. The three turned to face him, Sandra Jones' eyes flashed amusement, the other two that sat across them filled with nervousness which they were successful at hiding. Unknowingly, they held each other tighter as Alfred's father looked at Arthur straight in the eyes. 

"Arthur Kirkland..." His voice was low and intimidating. 

"Yes sir?" 

"Before you met my son... Were you originally straight?" Another question both of them didn't expect to be asked. Alfred immediately reacted. 

"Dad! What a rude question to ask, geez!" 

"And in what way is it rude? Besides, your mother didn't even react which means it isn't." He turned to look at his wife, hoping she would approve with him. When he got a smile, he sighed and returned to face his son. 

"But dad-" 

"I wasn't gay before... I originally was straight, yes." Arthur chimed in and with his answer, he felt his hand be squeezed tighter he almost flinched from the pain. "Alfred here, is my  _ first man  _ and I'm sure he is the  _ last.  _ Considering so many possibilities, if one day he..." Arthur paused and looked down on his lap as he pulled a hurt expression. "...if he, let's say, realized he doesn't  _ love  _ me anymore... I'm very sure that I'll never have someone else again..." 

Now where did that dialogue came from? Damn, Arthur was so thankful he was a voracious reader and his specialty was romance novels. He had to admit, that line was not originally his, except of course the gay and straight part. Starting from the  _ first man _ , it was all from a book, spoken by a female character. 

Alfred looked at Arthur who still was looking down on his lap. Unconsciously his grip on the other's hand softens. He can't believe that the Brit had such a talent at acting that he himself, even though he was part of the  _ play _ , he was close to believing what Arthur was saying, he was emotionally touched. If this was affecting him, what about his parents? 

He looked at their faces, his mother's eyes had softened already while his father had his gaze outside again, and refusing to look at Arthur's almost crying face. Suddenly he felt a squeeze on his hand and when he looked at the Briton, he was looking at him,  _ glaring  _ slightly as if saying it was his turn to speak and brighten the mood he just set. 

The food that was ordered was already forgotten as David Jones' began to throw more questions at the  _ couple _ . Alfred couldn't help but notice, that the questions were all directed to Arthur, hoping that he would finally snap and admit the truth. His father had a strong feeling that everything was fake. He had a strong belief everything was fake since he refused to accept that his oldest son was gay. 

"You weren't gay you say... What made you realize you are?" 

"Alfred has quite the charm sir." He answered with a smile, though once again he squeezed Alfred's hand as a warning not to grow a big head with the compliments he was forced to say. 

"When did everything start?" 

"By start sir, you mean when we first met?" He got a nod of the head. He looked at Alfred, this was the part they had rehearsed, and they had prepared for. With a deep breath, he started the script. "We met at the same restaurant from last night. He wasn't a customer there though, he was just there because he needed to use the bathroom, and we were the nearest. During the time he was there, the customers I was assigned to was a couple and it was on that night that they were having a bad break up, from my opinion, since the man suddenly lashed out at me, accusing me as the girl's... _ other man _ . He began accusing each and every male in the restaurant actually, but he decided that it was me and- " "And since I am a hero, I saved Artie here!" Alfred proudly said. Arthur resisted to roll his eyes that time, but was thankful  he wasn't going to tell the whole story line on his own. Also, knowing Alfred, once the American started talking and bragging about his  _ Hero _ ic acts, it would require a lot of effort to shut him up. Usually, a punch on the face would do though. "...and I don't know dad.... It's just that since then I... I just needed to see him always and well, developed feelings for him as the time went on. He was just that... different, in a very good way of course!" 

He looked at Arthur with a cheeky smile that obviously was telling him,  _ 'I did a great job didn't I? No way they're gonna think that as scripted!'  _ He could only roll his eyes with a forced chuckle. 

"Mr. Kirkland, originally you're from England obviously. What are you doing here in America? I thought you British people hated Americans for butchering your language?" 

"Oh, the stereotype." Arthur chuckled though he did want to agree that the accusation fit him very well. "We don't hate Americans, and it isn't like everyone here talks in a barbaric way. As for my reason for being here..." He paused and this time, the sad paint on his eyes was real though unintentional. He kept a smiling face, but Alfred and his mother knew something was being kept. Alfred of course had no idea what it was since he didn't really care about Arthur's background though now... "...I graduated high school here because of a scholarship offered, so since then I've been living here." Was all he said. They were expecting a much more dramatic story from his mouth but they decided not to ask any further. 

"I see... I would assume you hadn't stepped to college." Mr. Jones, insensitive as he was on these kinds of situations still asked the question which had his side pinched secretly by his wife. 

"Yes sir." 

"Why?" 

"I had to work immediately after graduating sir." 

"Why?" 

"... We needed money for our expenses." 

"Why don't you ask your parents for that?" 

"...They're dead...sir." A heavy silence enveloped the whole table. Alfred kicked his dad for asking such questions. He never knew Arthur's background because he didn't really care. Now he knew at least a little, yet the little information about him seemed so many as well. There was more to Arthur's life, he was sure of it and he was also sure that most of those weren't as pleasant as he thought. 

Just to shatter the awkwardness, Mrs. Jones cleared her throat and smiled at Arthur. 

"Well Arthur dear.... We're ordering desserts, what would you like?" 

He smiled at her, "Anything would do ma'am." 

As the two conversed, Alfred remained quiet as he observed Arthur. When the topic about his personal life was asked, his attitude, the atmosphere around him dropped. Even when he would make stupid remarks or anything that would mention their supposed sexuality, h wouldn't feel his hands being pinched or squeezed to the point of pain anymore. The smaller hand on his palm is relaxed, unmoving. It seemed like Alfred had a lot of apologizing to do after everything was over. 

As the drama was taking place on their table, the Remington sisters had their eyes full on them, without taking off their sunglasses as not to be obvious. Ashley was close to freaking out, the tissue paper that was meant for the utensils were now in pieces as she ripped them off. 

"How dare he! He introduced him to his parents! Oh the nerve of that-" 

"Shh! Do you want to be caught?" Jillian nudged her elbow as she took a sip of  _ diet coke  _ which she ordered despite having been offered pineapple juice with the reason of  _ Jillian is on diet _ . Seriously? 

Ashley suddenly stood up abruptly which caused their table to shake and their drinks to splatter over. But she didn't care as she stomped out of the restaurant with her pissed of sister chasing her, muttering curses here and there. The moment they reached their car, the door was slammed shut which shook the vehicle. 

"Damn it Ashley! Why did you suddenly walk away? Don't you wanna see what's gonna-" 

"I don't need to watch until the end. It's clear, he was introduced and with the way Mrs. Jones was smiling, it means he's accepted!" 

"Well, yeah you could say that." After minutes if silence, the younger slammed her fists on the window almost crashing it. And before Jillian could even complain about her attitude, he ordered her to grab her phone. 

"And why? Who are you gonna call?" 

"Call every fucking doctor out there." 

"Huh?" 

"I'm getting a pair of mammaries." Her eyes were on fire as she was already determined to what she was going to do. "I won't get beaten by that faggot, I'm a girl and he's not and I am the better choice." He crossed her arms and glared at the restaurant they were in. And then after, a very evil smirk crawled on her lips which Jillian admittedly didn't like. 

" _ If I'm not hot enough for Alfred, then I'm going to fucking be."  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter the b*tches! - Lol sorry, needed to say that XD.   
> The two sisters, you could just picture them as Belarus and Ukraine~ lol. Originally I was to use them but their human names sounded... like they belong to a very sweet person (in my opinion :P). Jillian and Ashley just sounds so American and... sorry but, bitchy. No offense to those who had those as their names! DX sorrrrryyyy! I don't know where I got Remington though. :P   
> Belarus would be Jillian, and of course Ashley would be a flat chested, long haired Ukraine, but hey she's getting her boobs done so.. woo!   
> To answer the recent reviews on this chapt! :D   
> Belarus seems to fir Ashley but I'm making Ashley as Ukraine because I need a very very very innocent face, one you wouldn't suspect as the bad girl in the story. On the first chapter, Ashley appeared as a very shy girl, meek and cute and quiet. One to get embarrassed very easily. An air-head, but she's not. On the next chapter or the chapter after the next chapter (chapterception!), I'll show more of her real side. :D   
> Looks can be dangerously deceiving. wooo!   
> Longest chapter woo! Thanks for reading! alululululululu!


	5. Chapter 5

Everything was back to normal again where there were only two of them, sitting beside each other without the presence of two blonde males. Mr. Jones had his eyes on his wife ever since his son and Arthur left them and now, his wife wouldn't even turn to look at him, focusing only to finish her dessert. It was because of the questions he had asked Arthur, the one where he was forced to tell them about his parents. Mrs. Jones felt that the lad was sensitive about the matter but was pitifully successful at hiding his emotions with the smiles and chuckles Alfred would try to bring out. But those questions did not stop there for you see; David Jones was focused on cracking up Arthur that he didn't put a thought about how his questions would lead to certain topics that shouldn't be talked about. 

" _ So... You have a brother huh? Does he know about this?" Arthur shook his head. "Are you embarrassed by your newly discovered sexuality then? Are you afraid he might rebel against you if he knew?"  _

" _ My brother wouldn't do anything of the like sir. My parents were able to raise him well before they left me in charge and I could also proudly say that so far I've been doing a good job at continuing the job. My brother wouldn't be swayed easily with something as shallow as homosexuality..." He answered with a smile, proud of his parents mostly.  _

" _ I see... "  _

" _ You are very confident with your words Arthur that I couldn't help but think you are faking everything... Is your story scripted? Maybe your parents aren't really dead and maybe you are just some prostitute my son picked up-"  _

" _ DAD!" Alfred slammed his hands on the table taking most of the people's attention directed at them but he didn't care. He wasn't dumb or stupid. He knew the difference between what was true and untrue. Sandra Jones also had the same angered expression on her face.  _

" _ You're going too far. You ask questions like that out of the blue, he answers it truthfully even if it is very personal, and then you accuse him as a whore?" She said in a calm yet sharp tone.  _

_ Arthur pulled Alfred down beside him again, trying to calm him though quite surprised with the way the other reacted. He didn't know if it was an act still. Besides, if it weren't how would he know that Arthur was indeed telling the truth? They only met last night, it was impossible to know the person fully within a few hours. Alfred after feeling hands on his arm, he tried to collect himself and plopped down beside Arthur also quite shocked with the way he acted. The two looked at each other with the same surprised face.  _

_ It was when Alfred decided, it was time to leave.  _

He kept on clearing his throat, fake of course, a number of times, getting unnecessarily louder to the point that it irritated his wife. 

"What's your problem David?" She finally looked at him, dropping her spoon with a soft clatter on the plate. 

"Look, I said I'm sorry for being insensitive and being too mean...okay? I was just-" 

"I said it's alright. Just be thankful that the boy had taken your questions and accusations lightly like you were only inquiring about the weather for tomorrow. Damn it, there are so many other and a lot more  _ proper  _ ways to know if their relationship is fake or not! You didn't have to ask him such things and even accuse him of what he is not." 

"But Sandra, how can you tell if his life story is true!? What if it was just all part of the drama?" 

"There are other ways to identify whether it was true or not. You didn't have to ask directly and make accusations. Playing safe is important, because at least if it really were the truth, then we wouldn't have hurt him emotionally!" She rolled her eyes, taking another spoonful of her dessert. 

David ran a hand through his hair as he leaned back on the chair. His eyes stared up the ceiling as he thought about the  _ other  _ ways possible his wife had insisted. What possible ways? Send a spy? A detective? Interview different people close to Arthur? It seemed that it would work so he was now putting it to consideration. First of all, he would start with Arthur's family background. He needed to know if everything was true so he could apologize if it were. He wasn't a bad person after all, just a Dad extremely concerned for his son's well being right? 

"You know honey, you don't have to rush things. It's not like this is a grave case we're facing." Sandra crossed her arms. "I also would like to know the truth, but come on, I'm not stressing over it too much. You gotta open your mind okay? What if everything was true? The reason why you're acting like that is because you've convinced yourself already that everything's an act. Loosen up Davey..." 

"It's like you're telling me that Alfred being gay and having a boyfriend is entirely okay for you." 

"Well..." She smiled,  _ finally smiled  _ thought David. "Well, I've always thought that gay relationships are cute _. _ "He stared at his wife with disbelief. Cute? What could possibly be cute about it? He tried not to gag and keep a blank expression as he stared up the ceiling. Then he remembered, back in those days, his wife had a strange obsession about that stuff. He even remembered the time he was still courting her, she had him pushed away saying that she rather had him dating another man than her. Weird. 

He sighed, a head-ache already started to crawl on his head as he thought about the matter more. Noticing the curved brows and the awful frown on his husband's face, Mrs. Jones elbowed him on the ribcage a little too strong just to see his pained face for her amusement. He winced and looked at her with irritation but she didn't care, even, she laughed at him much to his annoyance. 

"You're gonna have twice the number of white hairs you have right now if you keep on thinking about it..." 

"Shut it Sandra..." 

Arthur sat patiently on the passenger seat of Alfred's car as said American was out to fetch the both of them canned drinks at the near-by vending machine. He had refused the offer actually but Alfred insisted and he knew it was because he wanted to at least make it up to Arthur for what had happened. He remembered how those blue eyes looked at him with guilt and concern. He didn't thought that the other was even capable of doing that as he Arthur already had judged him to be a self-centred brat. 

He sighed, his ankles crossed, an arm on his lap as the other acted as support for his head as he gazed outside the window. His clothes were back to normal; A plain black polo, trousers, and sandals. How happy he was to get rid of the damned scarf and tight clothing that shamelessly emphasized his curves. Not that he didn't own a V-necked shirt, but his was not as tight as what Alfred made him wear. Thick brows curved as he remembered what he looked like minutes ago. It was just so  _ gay.  _ He tried to relax himself with the thought of how he barely but successfully survived his  _ first day  _ on the job. But just seconds after he closed his eyes, the slight shaking of the car had him open them reluctantly again, and saw Alfred already sitting beside him with a hand holding a can of soda at his face. 

"I didn't find any milk tea or juice so... soda?" Arthur rolled his eyes but thanked Alfred still as he took the can. 

"Git, I do drink soda. I'm not very picky with food you idiot." 

"But you looked like someone to throw up when handed McDonalds..." 

"I'm not a pussy on a diet Alfred..." He brought his fingers to open his drink but then he hesitated and looked at Alfred with suspicion, the other only blinked questioningly in return. 

"What?" 

"You didn't shake this did you?" 

"No! Of course not! Why would I?" Alfred raised his hands in defence as he tried to convince the Brit who still was looking at him and then at the can of soda suspiciously. "Come on dude... I wouldn't want soda all over my beautiful car you know... It's hard to clean inside, and I don't trust other people to clean my dear Chevy..." He crossed his arms with a pout. Arthur sighed, slightly convinced with what he said. He opened the can, and thankfully there weren't any fountain effects or any bursting like what he had expected. Alfred smiled, at least Arthur trusted him on that. 

He watched as the other contently drank, half-lidded as he did. As his eyes stared at him, his thoughts unconsciously drifted back to the events at the restaurant. Half of what had happened there was purely acting, and then the latter was purely real. He could tell that. Alfred may appear to be naïve and clueless most of the tomes but he was actually observant and good at detecting what was real and what was not. 

"What is it?" Arthur's voice had him snapped back to reality. He felt slightly embarrassed when he knew he was staring at the other for a minute or so. He shook his head and relaxed his back at his seat before frowning. 

"I just... I want to apologize for what happened back there." Arthur raised a brow. 

"What do you mean? You've acted pretty good, we were able to follow your script and-" 

"Hey, hey I'm not an idiot dude. I'm talking about when your personal life was brought up... You know... your family. I mean, my dad asked unnecessary questions and you were forced to answer them and.. I know you didn't want to talk 

about that part, it's quite obvious so..." He looked up at Arthur, expecting to get a sour look on the other's face, or even a hint of irritation. He even expected the other's gaze to be fixed outside and try to pretend he wasn't hearing anything. But Alfred was surprised though to see Arthur looking directly at him with an amused face. He blinked a few times in confusion. Wasn't Arthur going to hit him or something? Wasn't he going to answer back with a witty comment? 

"I can't believe you're apologizing from something like that... Stupid American, I was acting." He chuckled. "I'm such a good actor you know, I even had you very convinced with-" 

"Remember me telling you I'm not an idiot?" The tone of Alfred's voice made him shut his mouth. It sounded pissed and with every word said faster than his usual blabbering, it was obvious that Alfred wasn't someone who liked being fooled even in the slightest. Arthur sighed; guess he wasn't the typical American Idiot after all... 

"Well... Uh... I could say it wasn't acting after all..." He chuckled and proceeded to finish what was left of his soda. "Anyway, just let it go. It's not like I'm mad or anything." He smiled at Alfred who seemed to have gone back to his guilty mode. He predicted that the other blonde would even insist on asking him what he could do to compens- 

"What can I do to pay you back? Aside from the money of course..." Arthur sighed. He really had expected this, but then he was a good person so of course he refused. He shook his head. "But Arthur, that's not-" 

"I said it's alright lad." 

"No it's not. Come on!" He rubbed his temples, knowing that this argument wouldn't be done in less than an hour unless someone gives in, and obviously Alfred was in no way going to lose. 

"If you really want to make it up to me, then just bring me back to work okay? I've got some explaining to do with my workmates...." 

"Oh yeah! Speaking of which, I'll help you explain! That way it would be more convincing yeah? Besides, we need them to be part of the act." 

"Part of the... Why?" Alfred grinned as he started the car. Arthur quickly buckled up as he feared for his life, remembering the drive on the way to the restaurant. 

"My parents seemed convinced but the truth is they're not. It doesn't end with just that you know." And without warning, Alfred stepped on the gas and sped out the parking lot with Arthur gripping at the seat for his dear life. Alfred still continued to speak though, a grin present on his face and Arthur didn't like it. It was creepy seeing Alfred put on a grin like that, like he was some evil master mind who was confident with the success of conquering the world. 

He rolled his eyes to even see Alfred in that way. 

"Dad, he isn't the type to give up so easily. Well, seriously who would be able to accept and even believe that his son is gay just after presenting his  _ boyfriend  _ to him? Suspicions would be everywhere, scattered everywhere inside my father's brain... Only though my father is an idiot when it comes to finding out the truth so most likely my mother would be the one planning everything and knowing my mother she would be acting secretly. Now Arthur, we would expect spies and hidden cameras everywhere." Alfred paused as he turned on a blind curve for a shortcut, his wheels squeaked with the motion. Before Arthur could even hit him, Alfred began blabbering again. "Also, let's not forget the people close to you. Peter your younger bro, well you told my parents he didn't know so we'll put him at the end of the list." 

"List?" 

"Yep! I need you to give me a list of your friends, or anyone in your neighbourhood. Okay?" Arthur could only nod his head. Damn Alfred sounded very professional with what he was saying. Perhaps he had been under these circumstances too often? Escaping every now and then from marriage proposals and engagements seemed to be his specialty. Or maybe he just had an overdose of action movies? 

"Well your workmates are the number one priority of course since the restaurant was where we first met... I mean yes it's where we really first met but I mean when we-" 

"I get it geez!" Arthur crossed his arms as he bit his inner cheeks in annoyance and though Alfred knew, he didn't seem to mind annoying him. 

"Oh, the day after tomorrow we're gonna have a date again kay'? Imma pick you up at..." He glanced at his watch and began mumbling his schedule which of course the other didn't like. 

"Focus on the road damn it!" The Brit tried pushing the other's face back but his eyes wouldn't focus and instead would 

drift to different directions as he was planning everything on his mind. "Hey I don't want to bloody die yet you...you pig!" Alfred gasped and looked at Arthur with disbelief, he didn't like the animal he was compared to obviously and he believed he was far too muscular to be a pig. 

"Take that back!" 

"Take what back?" 

"What you called me earlier!" Arthur smirked and lazily focused his eyes outside trying to look uninterested. 

"Oh what? That you're a  _ pig _ ?" 

"Yes!" 

"Oh, so you're a pig." Alfred fumed, unconsciously stepping on gas harder and his eyes barely looking at the road anymore. Arthur didn't really mind anymore, he knew that they would survive even with Alfred driving recklessly. He kind of just felt that no matter what kind of situation you would throw the guy beside him in, Alfred would survive with that thick skull of his. Besides, he was totally getting back at the American right now with his insults and name callings. Why stop? It was fun admittedly. 

"Arthur!" 

"Fat arse!" Another gasp. 

"For your information  _ eyebrows _ ..." Arthur flinched at the name. "... My body is 99.9% muscle!" Alfred lifted his chin proudly as he turned on another curve. If it weren't for the seatbelt, Arthur would've been flying out the window right now. 

"99.9? No wonder you're brain is so little you can't even think right." Alfred gritted his teeth. How could he have lost such an argument? As he glared at the other, fortunately he didn't fail to notice that they had just driven past the restaurant Arthur was working at and so without warning he stepped on the breaks sending Arthur forward. A bunch of curses attacked Alfred again but he only smirked and began driving backwards with the screech of his tires as he stepped once more in the gas fully before stepping for the second time on the breaks without warning. 

"Ooh, just a little and you could've been flying." He teased but then a fist landed on his face. For the second time, he was punched by Arthur. He was strong really, despite his thinness. Alfred would now start wondering just where that strength was coming from. 

Arthur slammed the door shut as he went off the car. He walked straight at the back door with Alfred catching up behind him, a hand rubbing the part where he hit. He smiled happily...no, he smiled evilly. 

He should punch Alfred more often. 

He found himself in the same situation he was that morning. Frozen on the door, hand on the knob unwilling to turn it. He glanced at his watch, most of the staff were supposedly having their break already and that made the Brit swallow hard. For sure, everyone's attention would be centred on him especially with the  _ surprise  _ appearance of Alfred that morning. More teasing was to come even. 

"Are waiting for Christmas here or what?" Alfred stared at the knob with a bored expression; a hand still was massaging his face and the other inside his pocket. The light taps were heard as he banged his foot gently on the door and Arthur wished it wasn't loud enough to be heard from inside. He glared at Alfred's foot and then at the other's face trying to stop himself from landing another punch. He was not  _ that  _ evil. 

"Would you enter a place where you expect to be made fun of and bullied?" 

"Well of course! I'd try to shut their mouths and stop them. You can't hide or run away forever dude." Great, now the supposedly American fool was giving him an unexpectedly smart advice though he can't really speak for himself. Arthur rolled his eyes.. 

"Says someone who... Never mind." He sighed and gripped the knob tighter. He cheered himself,  _ Go Arthur! You can do this! You have experience worse....  _ But then he thought that nothing from his past experiences (about bullying) could be worse than this. This was the first time he was going to fight for his real sexuality. With a shaky breath, he twisted the knob and pushed the door open. 

As expected, eyes were immediately on him the moment he opened the door. He sighed and pulled Alfred using the American's ear causing him to whine in pain. Upon seeing him behind Arthur, the people began murmuring and soft 

buzzes filled the room and with the way they stared at the pair, he knew it was going to be one heck of a  _ bloody  _ explanation. 

He pulled a chair and sat down right in the middle, leaving Alfred to stand behind him and look dumb. The moment he settled down, everyone went silent and it was all because of the dangerous aura that he created, and of course his very displeased face. Even Alfred had zipped his mouth and began stepping away a few steps. But then someone dared break the atmosphere. 

"Hey Arthur! Finally coming out of the closet? _ "  _

And there went a shoe as it crossed the room in mid-air before successfully landing on the target. 

A moment of silence for a certain German's face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woooo! Nothing much happened in here LOL... Thanks for the support guys! :D   
> *dang, It feels like the story is awfully slow... -_-*   
> I got another ear piercing yey! XDDD   
> Next Chapter:   
> "... We need to do this."   
> "We don't."   
> "We do."   
> "Fuck you."   
> "We do. This is absolutely necessary!"   
> "It's not."   
> "Here, I'll help you re-"   
> .."I'M NOT GETTING ON THE BLEEDING BED NAKED ALFRED!" :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeey, sexy ladeeeh!

Weeks passed and Arthur was already used to his new schedule. Every week he went out with the American and they would go to different places and take pictures that showed them being cute and cuddly with each other. Now Arthur was not the type of person who was fond of taking pictures so most of them he was wearing a scowl on his face. It was Alfred's smile that made the pictures seem sweet. There was actually one picture taken by Alfred using his phone where he and the Brit's face were squeezed together just to fit in the American's camera phone. Their cheeks rubbed on each other as Alfred had just forced him to take a picture at a random moment. The flushed face of Arthur which was because of his tiredness from work made him look like he was blushing at the moment and it added to the cuteness of the picture. Everything seemed natural actually, and for Alfred, it was the best realistic picture they had. He even made it his phone's wallpaper even with Arthur constantly grabbing his phone just to change it back. 

Their fights were beginning to lessen as well especially the issue about Alfred's driving. Arthur didn't find it to be very dangerous and life-threatening anymore as he was already used to it, he wouldn't complain every time his body would sway violently when Alfred would turn on a curve. Occasionally, the American would be held up by the police. Before, Arthur would step out of the car and walk away, but now he would just sigh and sleep until the confrontation was over. He was so used with the other's actions that he didn't really mind it. 

Of course, just like what Alfred had predicted, there constantly were people following them wherever they went so they never let their guard down. Well, the arguments would always be there but they always had it covered with fake grins and smiles, hits and punches that seemed light yet it wasn't. So far, everything was going smoothly and the both of them never heard anything from Alfred's parents except the usual ...' _ how are you?'  _ which was occasionally asked. 

Everything was simply another addition to Arthur's weird and crazy life. 

It was a Sunday and he wasn't expecting a phone call from Alfred since it was only during weekdays that he would ask him out. Sundays was considered to be his relaxation day so when his phone rang and it flashed Alfred's number, he couldn't help but feel annoyed. He had his tea prepared by his side accompanied by some oatmeal cookies. A book was set on his lap, just waiting to be opened as he sat comfortably on the couch. And then suddenly his phone rang and Alfred's voice immediately burst out the speaker right after Arthur hit the button. He was actually just half-way at saying Hello. 

" _ Arthur! Good thing you answered! For a minute there I thought you were gonna ignore my call dude! _ " 

"What the hell do you want? If this is not important-" 

"This is important bro!" He heard the screeching of tires and a honk from the other phone and there was no doubt that Alfred was speeding up along the road. "Look, I'm just a few blocks away from your home, we'll talk later bye!" He said quickly before the line went dead and Arthur's annoyance level rose up. 

Arthur had to stop himself from throwing his phone yet again. He thought he should've thrown it the moment he knew it was the American calling. Well at least he was warned beforehand about the taller blonde raiding his home. He began muttering incomprehensible curses as he thought about the many possible reasons Alfred would throw on his face but he actually believed it was only boredom. To make things worse, his brother, Peter, was at home with him and until now he never mentioned anything about his  _ other job.  _ Though he did tell the younger that he had another job, he just didn't tell him what exactly it was. 

_ Alfred said he was just a few blocks away...  _ He thought as he glanced at the wall clock.  _ About 10 minutes or 5 before he arrives...  _

He only had less than 10 minutes to drink his— 

"Arthur I'm here!" He almost dropped the cup the moment the doorbell rang along with the voice he didn't want to hear yet. He sighed and reluctantly placed his tea down as the bell was continually harassed by Alfred. He nibbled on his upper lip as he leaned back with a hand on his hair, pulling on the strands gently. Why did the lad arrive early? He didn't have time to relax and prepare and... Mostly relax and bollocks he wasn't even properly dressed, with shorts and a very loose shirt on. But it wasn't like he needed to impress anyone or anything. It was just Alfred the great American idiot and Arthur had no plans on dressing up properly just for him. 

The harassing of the bell still continued as it played a duet with Alfred's loud voice calling out to his name along with the 

demands of opening the damn door. And so he finally stood up, hand still on his hair and as it dishevelled it even more. As he walked towards the door, he passed by Peter's room and loud music boomed through it. No wonder his brother hadn't heard the mischievous blonde ringing the bell. At least he was thankful for it. With a sigh, he turned the knob. 

"What the hell do you-" 

The American swept past him without even getting to finish his sentence. Alfred was sweating and it obviously wasn't only because of the scorching heat of the sun. He looked like he did something strenuous, ran away from something. It gave Arthur a bad feeling but it quickly faded away the moment the other started wandering around his home as if looking from something. 

"Water, water, water, I need water, where's the gla—oh there it is. Water, water, water..." He kept muttering under his breath, freely pulling a glass from the cabinet and pouring cold water he got from the refrigerator. He moved around like it was his home huh? There was silence for a moment as he began gulping the liquid like there wasn't any future to hold on to anymore and Arthur could only watch him with disbelief and slight amusement. 

"Aah, that was great!" Alfred breathed out. The glass produced a loud clink upon being brought down the table. "I thought I was going to die of dehydration- Oh hey Artie!" 

"A troublesome guy like you wouldn't die so early you know." The Englishman rolled his eyes as he pulled a chair and sat across Alfred who did the same though even when sitting, it was still obvious who was taller than the two. 

"Of course since I'm a hero and all!" He proclaimed with a proud smile, his chin lifted up slightly but his heroic atmosphere was easily broken with Arthur's retort. 

"The Lord doesn't want troublesome people living with him in heaven so he wouldn't want you there." 

Ouch. That was kind of mean wasn't it? But hey, Alfred's already used to everything about the Brit just as much as the other was used to his weirdness and idiocy. He only laughed at him. 

"Fuck you dude. Ain't cool." 

"Whatever, just tell me why the hell are you disturbing my supposed to be peaceful Sunday? And why are you taking a bath in your own sweat?" Arthur was just thankful the American didn't smell. 

"Oooh... Well you see I was running away- Oh is that chocolate? Wow that's one huge ball of choco. Hope you don't mind Artie." Everything went fast, from Alfred supposedly explaining, to him spotting something on the kitchen's counter, and eventually him eating it as he supposed it was chocolate. Arthur wasn't even able to utter a single word and all he could do was to watch and wait for the other's reaction. 

But there wasn't any. 

Still he remained silent though, but as the food disappeared on Alfred's mouth until there was none left, he didn't get any reaction. He blinked in surprise with his jaw dropped. Seeing his expression, the American blinked back at him. 

"What is it? Is there something on my face?" 

"Aren't you... going to... the food you know... you... ate..." 

"Dude, can't understand you." Alfred shrugged his shoulders. "Anyway as I was saying. I came across a girl as I went to buy at McD's and this girl, I've had nights with her. Dude she's hot you know. So yeah I met her and I actually wanted to hit on her again. She's even giving hints at me bro but then I had to unfortunately stop myself. You know why? Because I noticed someone watching me and I am sure it was one of my mom's spies so I had to rub her off and run away thus me being drenched in sweat. The parking lot was pretty far so.. Yeah.—Hey, you listening at me bro?" 

Arthur nodded his head though he was still not over his surprise about the man across him, eating the food he had spotted randomly without any complain. 

"Artie? Why are you staring? Oh man don't tell me you've fallen for me." He winked teasingly at him which made Arthur snort in disgust. 

"No fucking way. I was just wondering how you managed to eat that garbage." The shorter blonde pointed at the remaining, said to be  _ chocolate  _ on the counter. Alfred only shrugged his shoulders. 

"It was obviously not chocolate, I was wrong about that. Well, I admit it's not as delicious as any food. I assume you 

made those I've eaten but it wasn't that bad. Just a bit burnt is all." 

"Are you serious?" The other nodded his head. 

"Oh come on, nothing is disgusting for a hungry fella!" 

"They're bloody disgusting according to my brother." 

"Oh yeah... You have a brother. Where is he?" 

"His room. Probably playing those PC games again. Didn't you hear the loud music coming out from that door when you passed by?" He pointed at the blue coloured door which led to Peter's room and as if on cue, as Alfred turned to look, the door opened and there came out Peter looking groggy. His blue eyes matched Alfred's own though his wasn't lively as the older's as of the moment. 

"Hey!" The American greeted with a cheerful smile. 

"Who are you?" 

"I'm Alfred! Artie's friend!" For a moment, Arthur was about to strangle him. It was a good thing the taller blonde's tongue didn't slip or else he would have cut it off using the knives present as they were in the kitchen. 

"Oh... I'm Peter." 

"Yeah. He did mention you often." Peter looked at Arthur for a moment before releasing an almost unheard 'oh' as he stepped past his brother and approached the refrigerator for a nice can of juice. 

"My brother mentions me a lot. He loves me." He said obviously teasing Arthur. 

"Oh I love you alright." The older of the two smirked. "Remember the time when you wet the bed? I was the one who changed the sheets because I love you." The boy flushed and almost dropped his drink in embarrassment. "And remember the time when-" 

"Shut up! That was years ago!" 

"Okay." He whistled in victory. It was always fun to tease his younger brother who immediately disappeared on his room. 

"You're mean." Alfred said with a smile. The other only smiled as well in response. "I also have a younger brother you know. But he's currently in Canada for some business matters. I miss him..." He trailed off. Arthur remained silent though for he didn't know what to say. It was because of the sudden change in Alfred's expression. He was smiling yet he looked sad. He must've really missed his brother. Alfred poured himself another glass of water and plunged it down his throat. A big sigh escaped him as he finished. He clasped his hands and his old self back. 

"And now back to the main topic! The reason why I was here was-" 

"Wow, so you actually  _ have  _ a reason." 

"Of course! So, here is it. I scheduled a 3 day trip to Hawaii!" He said in almost a shout out of excitement. His blue eyes sparkled in joy as he announced the news. Arthur on other hand didn't look amused, not even happy in the slightest. "Oh come on! Aren't you happy? Dude we're going to Hawaii! The beach, the sand, the  _ girls!  _ Why the long face?" 

"You know I can't leave as far as Hawaii git!" He crossed his arms. "I have work here and I can't leave Peter he all alone. He may be old enough to manage the house himself for a few days but still there's no way I can leave him alone." 

"Oh come on! I can ask one of our maids to take care of him, and as for your job I could talk to your manager! I'll pay your supposed salary for the days you would be absent so there's no need to worry! Please? We need to do this to make things even more convincing for my parents." 

"But Alfred, I told you-... Oh bugger." 

Arthur sighed as Alfred flashed him his infamous puppy eyes. It had always worked with everyone so the American was sure he could get to convince the Brit. At first, he tried his best to battle with those wide sky blue eyes, but it only seemed to get wider and teary as the seconds passed by and in the end he was forced to give up the fight and nod his head. Alfred cheered. 

"Dude you're not gonna regret this I promise!" 

"Whatever. When are we leaving anyway?" 

"Tomorrow morning—" 

"WHAT?" 

Alfred laughed. 

And so they went to Hawaii. Just like Alfred had promised, he asked one of their maids to look after Peter. At least Arthur would worry less about his brother. 

Alfred had them booked at one of the luxurious hotels along the coasts which would give them a very nice view from their room. Arthur liked the place they were staying at. It was wide and spacious. There was a big flat screen T.V. that hung on the wall. On the wooden table was a basket of fruits and beside it was a bowl of candies and chocolate. The window was wide and the view was excellent, the whole room was filled with the sweet scent of roses. The Englishman like it very much except for one thing. 

There was a single bed present. 

It was huge and very comfortable. The sheets didn't smell like they recently came out from the cabinet unlike most sheets do. Arthur at first let the issue about sharing a bed pass for Alfred gave a pretty good reason.  _ "Dude, spies are everywhere and if they knew I took a room with two beds, mom would be suspicious..."  _ It made sense. The bed was big and it would fit in 3 people so he guessed it wouldn't be a problem since there would be enough space for him to be apart from the other. 

But when night time came, it seemed like the supposed gap wasn't going to be followed. 

"... We need to do this." 

"We don't." 

"We do." 

"Fuck you." 

"We do. This is absolutely necessary!" 

"It's not." 

"Here, I'll help you re-" 

"I'M NOT GETTING ON THE BLEEDING BED NAKED ALFRED!" 

Alfred was on the bed with only his boxers on and was forcing Arthur to do the same. The reason? He wanted to take a picture with the both of them cuddled to each other without their shirt on. The rest of their body would be covered with the thick layer of blankets which would make them appear as if they really were naked. Just the thought of it made Arthur gag. There was a camera set on a tripod just across the furniture. Everything was right on place except the Brit who was on the floor at the edge of the bed. 

"Dude, it's only the top you're removing!" 

"Still! Damn it's bloody embarrassing you limey!" 

"If you're a real man you'd do this!" 

"I'm a real man that's why I'm not doing it!" 

They glared at each other fiercely; Blue vs. Green. If it were only a television show, you would see electricity connecting their eyes. Their lips were pursed and both was eager to win against each other. 

"Artie..." Alfred spoke seductively which surprised Arthur. What was the blonde planning?. Artie... Don't tell me you've seriously fallen for me. Otherwise there's nothing to be embarrassed about knowing this is all just an act.....  _ Babe _ ...~" He crawled towards the other and leaned down close enough to invade the shorter blonde's persona bubble. 

Arthur's blood boiled. How dare this guy mock him? Embarrassed? Of course he was embarrassed and it wasn't 

because of the fact that Alfred was going to see him in only his boxers on. Hell, he was just trying to preserve what's left of his masculine dignity. With the way Alfred had approached him, the seductive voice and the sexy crawling, there was no way he was going to lose with such a cheap act. He smirked and leaned his face closer, their noses touching. 

"Well  _ love... _ " He spoke in an equally seductive voice, actually, his voice sounded more lustful and it surprised Alfred but of course he kept the grin on. "I think it's  _ you  _ who had fallen for me..." 

"And why is that?" 

"Well aren't you the one who desperately want me on the bed...  _ naked with you? _ " The last words were said in a whisper which sent shivers down Alfred's spine. It didn't seem so but Arthur was doing a good job with the whole acting. He had to admit he was impressed with the shorter blonde. But pf course he believed he was better. 

Their noses were touching but neither made an attempt to move away since it would signal their defeat on taunting each other. Their breathes were mixed up as it escaped their lips. They could feel each other's breath as it tickled their nose. Green was still locked on blue and the more they looked at each other, the more their heart pounded. One of them had to give up eventually. 

And Arthur made sure it was Alfred who would. He had to stop the staring contest immediately as it was growing to be uncomfortable for him. So he leaned forward more till their foreheads touched as his slim hands cupped Alfred's face, and with half-lidded eyes, he breathed heavily with his mouth. Warm air began to escape and tickled Alfred's lips which made the American jerk away from surprise. 

Arthur won. 

He laughed heartily at Alfred who was all the way back at the bed's headboard. A hand covered his mouth in shame and disbelief of what had just happened. For a moment there he had expected Arthur to kiss him but he didn't pull away immediately until he felt the warm breath that came from the other. That was what lead him back to his senses and pull away. His heart was pounding so fast that it felt like it was going to leap out from his chest any minute. What annoyed him more wasn't his lost over Arthur. It was about him. He realized, if Arthur kissed him, he knew he wouldn't jump away. He was willing at that moment. Thank heavens he didn't kiss him or else... Damn he didn't even want to think about what would happen next. 

He glared at Arthur and made a mental note to himself. 

Arthur was a seducer and even for a completely straight guy like him, Arthur was dangerous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOM! Goodness, I enjoyed writing this chapter for some reason. O.O   
> Another chapter done wohoo! So, what do you guys think about this one? I think it's pretty short but I've ran out of ideas lol. I'm already sleepy~~   
> Open to suggestions, criticisms, flames even haha!   
> Thanks for the support! Going to edit someday as usual hahahhahahahahahah!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing...

She was determined as hell the moment she stepped on the tiled floor of the small white room. Her game face was on, her hands clenched on her red purse, and as the lady over the counter took notice of her, she took it as a cue to fully enter and began her walk inside with her heels clapping on the floor and her chin held up higher than always. The atmosphere surrounded her made the other and only person present in the room flinch slightly and prayed for her to walk away and leave, find some other clinic to entertain her for surely, she was the kind of a demanding and bratty customer. 

Ashley didn't care to put on her shy and meek for her blood boiled with the images of Alfred and Arthur still flashing on her mind like a broken CD that was going to replay forever. Her pride was beginning to grow higher like a tree and if ever it were really a tree, surely she would've made it in the Guinness book of World Records for growing the highest tree above her head. But one cannot really blame her though. Just try imagining yourself in her shoes, wouldn't you be pissed off after knowing you, a lady from head to toe, had just been chosen over for a guy who didn't even looked like he cared about his appearance. Just take a look at those eyebrows of Arthur, and compare it to yours. That alone would infuriate anyone. And at the same time, it would cause insecurity. 

So Ashley believed she wasn't  _ hot  _ enough for Alfred, and that was the reason she was standing in front of the attendant behind the counter who was obviously trying her best to smile and not run away from fear of what outburst might come out of her. Who knows what level of bitchiness she might throw? 

But of course, Ashley wasn't like that. She may have ranted non-stop at her older sister (which she admitted was kind of helpful at least), she may have cursed at every couple that passed by her line of sight, she may have a scary bitch inside of her, but she wasn't someone who would let all her frustrations out like a literal female dog. So she breathed in and out with her eyes closed, trying to calm herself before she spoke. 

"May I speak with Mr. Bonnefoy? I scheduled an appointment through phone." 

Her tone of voice was different from what the other lady was expecting, for what she thought Ashley would do was to shout at her, and if not, her voice would be low and threatening. Not sweet and gentle. Not what tone of voice she had used back then at the  _ damned and worst  _ dinner she had with the Jones. 

"Ah... Name please?" 

"Ashley G. Remington." 

The other nodded and began to check and browse at the desktop present beside her. After a few scrolls and click, her face lit up and began to dial numbers on the phone. Numbers that what Ashley guessed to be Mr. Bonnefoy's number. She stood still and waited as the other was busy talking with the phone. Her voice almost in a whisper that the long haired blonde couldn't hear the conversation going on. After a few nods of the attendant's head though, the phone was brought down. 

"Mr. Bonnefoy would be arriving shortly Ma'am." 

"So... I'll just wait for him then?" 

"Yes. Please make yourself comfortable for the meantime." 

She nodded her head and took a seat at the couch that was surprisingly very soft, soft enough to fall asleep. Across her was a glass table with a vase of marigolds at the middle. Underneath the table was a stack of health and beauty magazines which she decided that reading them was a good way to pass the time. With a click of her tongue, she reaches forward and took a bunch of them on her lap and began browsing through the pages until she found something that would entertain her for the rest of the time she would need to wait. 

_ 10 Tips on how to get a boyfriend!  _

Her fingers stopped turning the pages the moment those big and bold letters in pink caught her eyes. She read the whole title again silently before reading the rest the follow. Though she felt a bit of hesitation for she didn't want to seem desperate.... but desperate she really was. But she didn't want to make it obvious she was desperate in having back Alfred! Her decision on getting another  _ pair  _ was enough. 

But then she thought, there was no harm in reading that stuff. She was just going to read for entertainment and who knows? Maybe those tips were going to be useful in the future. The magazine wouldn't include something like that as well if no one was going to read it which means a lot was willing to follow the advice on the paper. She was not the only one. 

_ Tip #1: Be daring.  _

Now what does it mean to be daring? Dare as in, you dare do stuff you don't usually do? Be daring as in... daring... You wear clothes that dared show off your body to the world? Dare not wear a bra and put on nipple tapes instead? Dare to buy boxes of  _ protection  _ shamelessly? Dare to flirt? Whatever that means, Ashley didn't get it. What the hell did it mean to be daring? 

_ Tip #2: Let your wild side come out from time to time.  _

Wild side, what? What did it mean to bring out and let out your wild side? Ashley had an idea to what it meant, and if wild side was referring to her wild-freak side, her touch-me-and-you-die side which she oh-so successfully was able to contain, then she somewhat understood what it meant. 

_ Tip #3: Be naughty at times.  _

Now that! She understood that! No need for further explanation. It's not like she hadn't went clubbing before. When you say naughty, it's like, getting drunk and wasted and getting your panties flying in the air. Or maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration huh? 

Her eyes still ran through the words and her thoughts were still busy analyzing what the text was offering her, that she didn't notice the door creak open as a man with blonde hair, long enough to be tied in a pony tail, entered and looked at her. The other lady behind the counter had acknowledged the man's presence already through a morning greeting, and yet there she was, still engrossed with the  _ tips  _ that after sometime, starting from number 6 and above, the tips didn't seem to be giving tips on getting a boyfriend anymore but rather... tips on how to get a dude on bed. 

"Ms. Ashley... Correct?" There was that low and seductive voice that took her attention away from what she was reading. Her eyes immediately were caught with stare from the half-lidded eyes across her, that belonged to the man. He was good looking, she observed, but without any doubt he was sure to be a perverted guy. Well, there was no use checking him out anyway since her mind was already settled with Alfred. 

"Yeah it's me." She finally answered the hanging question. "You're Mr. Bonnefoy?" 

"The one and only." He answered with a smile, his head dropping slightly to the side as he crossed his arms over his exposed chest due to the few open buttons. "You're such a pretty girl... I can't help but wonder why you would need my service." With the accent, she immediately knew this guy was not American. 

Ashley shut the magazine and returned them back to where they originally were. She looked at the other with a straight face before she stood up and lifter her arms sideways. Upon doing so, Bonnefoy raised a brow, clearly understanding what she was trying to make him understand. 

"Well... It's isn't so bad Ms. Ashley." 

"But then it isn't enough." 

"Isn't? But if you would ask me-" 

"You're not the one I'm trying to please Mr. Bonne—" 

"Call me Francis... My dear..." 

"Okay... Francis... I'm after some other guy, and so I need to meet his  _ standards _ , and on the top of the list is hotness." And she can't help but admit to herself, Arthur was hot and she was jealous. But she hated him, so the hotness level of Arthur for her was at a negative. Oh she swore at herself, the moment the  _ couple  _ went back from Hawaii (Yes she knew for she had spies as well), Alfred would be surprised at the big change in her and Arthur could wave bye bye. He should enjoy their bonding moments now because she was going to end it soon. 

_ Another poor soul...  _ Francis thought as the lady across her continued her rambling. He sighed.. Oh really, women and their ramblings, it could last a lifetime. He looked at her with a smile, though deep inside he was frowning. There he was again, in front of a girl who was obviously insecure about her appearance. A girl who desired a perfect body as if it was the only way for her to be liked. It was obvious just by looking into her eyes, that she wished to be appreciated, she 

wanted for the guy she liked to like him back. Oh, Francis could tell. He'd been through many cases of this, listened to different stories his clients would tell, and it was all the same. The reason was all the same. He chose this kind of job to bring  _ back  _ beauty to those who had lost them. Like those who had been through serious accidents, burned their face or had acquired scars. 

Just like his mother whose face was accidentally ruined by an accident. But he was able to bring her mother's beauty back after years of studying and working hard just to be successful and be what he was at the moment. But his history wasn't really that dramatic or important so we'll go back to the current situation. 

"... I can't believe I had been chosen over a GUY! A GUY! Can you believe that?" 

His brows rose. Now that was a case he surely didn't encounter yet. Sure he heard of women being dumped of for another, much prettier woman, but for a guy? Now he knew why this lady in front him was furious. He should compliment her though for not throwing the vase of Marigolds yet. Other clients almost ruined his office. He wondered why ladies loved to tell him their miseries though. He didn't sign up for that part. 

"Okay, I understand your situation; you can calm down now Ms. Ashley." She nodded her head and apologized. Her cheeks were red both from frustration and embarrassment for practically ranting to someone she just met. Francis motioned for his attendant, who was also listening intently on the story. He ordered her to give his client a glass of water. "Well then... What enhancements would you like me to do?" 

"Why ask me? Aren't you supposed to be the one who knows what to do with me?" 

The surgeon grinned. "Ah Miss... You sounded a bit... sexual." 

"Will you shut up? Typical perverted French." Francis chuckled and raised his hands in a defensive manner. This lady was not the type to be messed up with. It was better to shut his mouth. "So... What I want you to do is... Basically, just make me prettier than I am now." 

"In what way?" 

"In every way." As the glass was handed to her, she thanked the other girl before drinking a few sips and settled the glass down on the table with a clink. "Do what is necessary. Make my boobs bigger, my ass irresistible, remove excess fats... Whatever! You get me I'm sure." 

He nodded his head. He understood her perfectly well. So he stood up and gave orders for his staff to prepare everything needed for the operation. 

Minutes had passed, and Ashley found herself lying on the white bed with markings all over her body, a bright light blinding her. So she closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing. She was nervous, but her will power was stronger than nervousness so somehow, she was able to calm down. 

"Would you like to start now?" He heard him say with that ever so slimy voice of his (slimy was how she described it). She nodded her head and slowly a needle was poking her skin. 

Drowsiness was going to take over her soon; the lights were getting dimmer as her eyes began to close. Uttering some last words before she finally drifted to unconsciousness. 

" _ You're toast... Arthur Kirkland..."  _

The surgeon froze at the name. 

He stared at the Brit whose pale, white skin was protected from the rays of the harsh sun, under the umbrella. He was reading a book again. Alfred pouted.  _ Why the hell would you bring a book at a beach?  _

As he stared at him though, the happenings from the night before kept replaying on his mind, and still he couldn't believe how things went. Everything, the seducing and such, backfired on him. It wasn't like he was serious or anything. He was just taunting Arthur and teasing him. Geez, it was just a picture and yet he couldn't say yes? 

He shook his head, the way he acted replaying once more. Damn he was like...a teenage girl! And that was not cool, and never will be! Hell it wasn't even funny! Funny for Arthur but not for him! He swore he was going to have his revenge! 

"ARTHUUUR~!" 

Arthur rolled his eyes as the American waved at him from the sea. 

"Come on you stuck up Brit! The water's fine!" 

"I am not in the mood for swimming Alfred. Leave me at peace!" He tried his best to focus back on the book he was reading under the shade of the gigantic umbrella Alfred brought along. His head rested on one arm while other hand was busy holding the book. The sun was scorching hot but the breeze that would caress his half naked body balanced everything so it wasn't really uncomfortable... Except for the sudden heaviness of staring he felt after sometime. Another shadow was looming over him as he removed his eyes from the book. And there stood Alfred with a grin on his face and on his hands was a... bucket. 

A bucket full of sand that in a blink of an eye was all over his petite body. 

Arthur coughed and dropped whatever what he was reading and glared at the laughing American with all his might. If magic were superpowers were real, lasers were already shooting out of those green orbs. He was lucky he was able to close his eyes thought just before the sand showered all over him. 

"Now you have every reason to plunge in the water." Alfred continued laughing as he pulled Arthur out of his comfort zone. The Brit allowed himself to be pulled of course. Since there was no other way to get off the sand from his body but dipping in. Shaking his body like a dog would be ridiculous as hell. 

Besides, sine the American loved the water so much... How about making him drink it? 

With one swift movement, he freed himself from Alfred's grip and tackled him in the water taking the other by surprise. They both fell on the shore and the waves were enough to drown Alfred and ate the sand that came with it. He tried to stand up, but Arthur was sitting on his back so it became difficult even with the fact that Arthur was very light. The salty water made his eyes sting and he was still coughing which made it difficult to move. 

"Damn you Arthur! Get off me!" 

"No." 

"Get off! Do you really enjoy  _ riding  _ on me that much?" At first Alfred didn't realize what he just said, and Arthur was just as clueless as him though after a few seconds of having spat that out, he smirked which made the grin on the shorter's face disappear and be replaced with a questioning look. 

_ Oooh, this is going to be good... A counter back for last night's humiliation.  _

"... How about.." He lifted himself up with his arms and got close to Arthur's face as much as he could. With the sudden closeness, the other froze and it was a benefit for Alfred for he was able to fully turn around, the Brit now sitting on his stomach without him realizing as Alfred slowly inched forward, with a hand on the other's cheek. 

He smirked; Arthur was frozen under his gaze. He leaned forward, his lips on the other's ear as he whispered... 

"... I suggest you...  _ ride me in a much more pleasurable way, yes? _ " 

"Wh—Wha—w-..." Arthur's face was as red as the other's sunburn as he stuttered in pure  _ disgust.  _

He pushed Arthur off him which caused the Brit to land on the water. Alfred was laughing to his heart's content as the other was still shocked with how everything happened so fast he didn't even have time to realize what the other was up to! 

"Payback asshole!" Alfred shouted. 

And just right after, he had an angry British man running after him with the promise of a slow and painful death. 

Blinding lights... Purple eyes.. a smiling man on the side... 

" _ I'm prettier now... aren't I?"  _

A nod and she smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo~~ Another Chapter done! Gaawd, college is eating me up.. Nooo!   
> I am open to everything! Throw all those suggestions and flames and tantrums and whatever! Come at me bros!   
> Sorry for the errors... It's in the middle of the night and I don't know what exactly I'm typing lol.   
> Thanks for the support! Love ya dudettes! XD


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Immabee~Immabee~ImmaImmaImmabee~~

"You can open your eyes now." 

Ashley nodded and did what she was told. She opened her lids slowly as she was greeted with her own reflection in the mirror. Her lips formed into a small 'o' as she studied her body. Her hands immediately crawled up to her chest over the thin hospital gown she wore. 

"Woah. It's," She paused, trying to find a proper adjective she could use. "It's uh, big." After all the thinking, that was the only word she could think of. 

"Ah don't squeeze it yet!" A hand stopped her own before she could even do more damage. She looked in question at Francis who sighed in relief as he held her. "It's newly operated. Squeezing it like that might open the wound or may cause it to lose form. You don't want a deformed breast do you?" She shook her head and returned to gaze at herself in the mirror. 

"But damn it's big like, twice as before?" She turned to her side on both directions with her eyes glues only on her chest. "Damn! It's obviously big even if you look at it in different angles!" 

Francis then sat back behind his small desk as the other continued to admire herself on the life-sized mirror present in his small office. He relaxed his back against the back rest, his arms were crossed on his chest, his right ankle resting on his left knee, and his eyes fixed on Ashley. His mind was screaming questions he wanted to ask. He wanted to know something about a certain  _ name, Arthur Kirkland.  _ He was simply curious if the Arthur Kirkland she mentioned was the same Arthur he knew. And if he is, what could possibly the relationship of the two? 

He cleared his throat a little louder on purpose to get Ashley's attention. He was given a quick glance by her but then her eyes were back on her reflection. He sighed but still decided to proceed on asking her. 

"Ms. Ashley, before you fell unconscious you uttered a name." 

"I did?" 

"Yes, and if I remember correctly it was, Arthur Kirkland? I just want to know who this person is if you don't mind." 

Her body froze at the mention of the name and slowly she turned her head o full on the side to meet the French man's eyes. The smile on her lips disappeared into a thin, straight line. 

"Why do you ask?" She said in a low and threatening voice which made Francis regret his decision on asking her. But then already  _ did  _ ask so might as well play it in the end right? He'll just have to choose his words correctly if he wanted to get out of the situation safely. "So what if I mentioned his name?" 

"Ah, you see I know someone of the same name and I was just wondering if it is the same person you know." 

"Is that so. Well the world is so small, it might be possible." She chuckled and walked a few steps nearer Francis' desk while the other prayed she won't go on any further from where she stopped. "You see Mr. Bonnefoy, he's the reason why I asked you to do  _ these, _ " He raised his arms to the side as if presenting herself. "...to me." 

"S-so, he's the one you're in love with then?" 

"Are you kidding me!?" She stormed to his desk and slammed her hands on it which made Francis jump on his seat and clutch to the chair's arm rests. "Hell no! I'm not in love with him! I'll have you know that he's the one who  _ stole my boyfriend  _ from me!" 

"Oh... Oh I see. Well, he must be uh, very handsome then if uh-" 

"He's not!" Ashley plopped down on the vacant chair in front of the table and crossed her arms. "Well I mean, he has a nice face but uh, it's not the type of face you'd go crazy for." She finished in almost a whisper, much like she didn't want to admit that indeed Arthur Kirkland was hella attractive in some way. Of course she was to deny it! He was her enemy after all! 

"I see. Now I'm curious about his looks. For him to be uh," He stopped himself from saying,  _ chosen over you  _ and tried to dig up any other words he could use. "To be able to make your boyfriend fall for him." He almost whispered as he 

finished as he tried to carefully examine the other's expression. He waited for any violent reactions but was glad that none came. 

"His looks huh? Well the first thing I noticed in him was his awfully thick eyebrows." She was careful not to let her tongue slip for adding ' _ But it didn't make him ugly one bit.'  _ "Do you know anyone with very thick brows Francis?" 

"Uh, I know many people with thick eyebrows." 

She stood up and made the other lean back down on his chair again in surprise. "But his is different! It's large and very noticeable!" She sat back down and returned to her original sitting position. "So uh, what else?" Her eyes stared at the floor as she tried to remember his complete appearance. "He's a little taller than me, shorter than my boyfriend. He's slim, petite, skinny, I dunno. His body is just, like a lady's? Because when I last saw him he was wearing fitted clothes and damn he had those kind-of-manly but almost feminine curves! Oh! And he's British just from his strong accent I can tell." 

Francis bit his lip. The eyebrows and the nationality was all he needed to confirm that indeed it was the same Arthur he knew. "Damn it must be his accent that swayed my BF away! Now does those features and characteristics seem familiar to you?" He shook his head and smiled. 

"No. The Arthur I know is entirely different from the Arthur you're describing. The Arthur I know is a fellow French man." He had to hold back himself from laughing at his words because surely, Arthur was far from being French. Besides, he wasn't very fond of Francis and the entire France was then included in the list of his dislikes just because of him. 

"Oh, well, you probably don't know this Arthur I'm talking about because if we knew the same person, immediately you'd react the same way I do and agree with me especially about those caterpillars on his face, you know, the brows **."** She continued. 

"He doesn't seem to be handsome then based on what you said. I bet you have a bigger chance of winning back you boyfriend now that you have something to present to him." 

"That's one perverted sentence but I'll spare your life since you're responsible for this and of course, for listening to me. Gosh I think I've ranted too much on you rather than on my sis! Hell, she's always putting on her earphones the moment I start pouring out my emotions!" 

Francis continued to smile. "Thank you as well for trusting me with your body and your life story." He took out a pen and paper, and began to scribble notes that Ashley didn't understand. "Well then, I'll be asking you to take some of these and I'll be seeing you after a week to check how you're doing. If I see it fit for another operation, I'll immediately schedule one for your buttocks. Until then please try to keep anyone's hands, especially yours from touching and squeezing your breasts okay?" Ashley found herself nodding through every statement. 

Francis picked up the small phone beside him and began to dial. "Hey  _ dear  _ it's me." From the other line of the phone, one could hear an unpleased reply. 

"Aww, so harsh my dear assistant." He chuckled as he played with the phone cord. "Anyway, please assist Ms. Remington here. We're done with business." Gently he placed the phone down. 

"Wow, you'll flirt with everyone with every chance you get huh? Am I considered lucky for being safe from your flirting?" 

"I only go after single people Ms. Ashley. You have a  _ boyfriend  _ you said, so I'm not trying anything on you." 

Ashley opened her mouth to say something but then was interrupted by a knock on the door followed by a lady entering a room to get her. She stood up and looked at Francis, who remained seated with his annoying smile plastered on his face. 

"I'll see you next week okay?" She only nodded her head before the door shut behind her back. The moment she was gone, Francis let his smile drop and let out a shaky breath he didn't know he was holding. 

He stretched his arms and crossed his fingers as he laid back to relax himself. He stared at the ceiling and closed his eyes with the image of Arthur Kirkland on his mind. The scowl that the Brit always wore and the rare genuine smiles he would show in unexpected times. Francis smiled once again and opened his eyes as a hand reached for his phone. 

"Arthur." He mumbled as the screen flashed his wallpaper. A picture of 4 people with him and Arthur together at the middle, their two other friends on their sides. Francis' arm was around the Brit's arm as he was pulled by him to join the picture. Arthur looked annoyed for being forced to be in there and the fact that Francis was keeping him from escaping. Their two other friends who weren't supposed to be part of it suddenly popped up from nowhere the moment they knew a 

picture was to be taken. Francis was smiling; Arthur had his mouth open for he was on protest that time, and the other two put on weird faces. It was a funny and happy picture, and it sure brought a lot of memories. Though Francis focused his eyes mainly on him and Arthur. 

It had been a long while since he last saw the other. Ever since they graduated from high school, he was sent back to France for college. He didn't hear anything from Arthur since then. But now that he knew Arthur was somewhere near him since they were probably in the same city, he never felt any livelier at present than before. He felt determined to find him. He  _ will  _ find him. 

Especially now that he got some information about him  _ swaying the other way.  _ Who would've thought Arthur would like men? Now Francis had a bigger chance to win him. 

"I'm home!" Arthur dragged his bag towards the kitchen where he saw Peter along with the woman Alfred asked to take care of his brother. He nodded his head at her for acknowledgement and thanked her for her service for she left the two Kirklands alone in their home. 

"Hey brother! You look tired!" Peter greeted without even bothering to stand up. He simply looked at Arthur as he chewed on his piece of toasted bread. 

"Of course I look tired since I  _ am  _ tired! Anything to eat?" 

"Why? Didn't they give you anything on the plane?" 

"You know plane food sucks." 

"It's better than your cooking—OW Let go!" Arthur looked at his brother who was struggling to get his hair out of the older's grip. "Why is always my hair you keep on bullying? I never pulled you hair!" 

"It's because you aren't tall enough to pull my hair yet idiot." He finally let go and rummaged through their cabinets as he tried to look for something to eat. Peter sighed as he watched his brother find nothing ready to eat. Everything needed to be cooked still and he could tell his brother was starving. He stood up, scratching his neck. 

"Just go rest brother. I'll prepare something okay?" Before Arthur could even question his kindness, he pushed him out of the kitchen. 

"Peter are you sick?" 

"Can't I play the role of a kind baby brother for once? Geez just go!" Arthur laughed and proceeded to walk himself back in his own room. 

He immediately let himself fall on his bed. For the past 3 days he was sleep deprived for various reasons and one of those was Alfred who would try to make him take off his top for a picture, saying that with a topless picture of both of them, their act would be a lot more realistic and convincing. They would stay up until the middle of the night, arguing and teasing each other—Oh the teasing! It was another reason. Ever since he got Alfred embarrassed, the other would do everything he could to make Arthur feel the same. Their simple arguments or normal conversations would always end up in unnecessary dirty talk. There would be meaning behind every word even if it was unintentional. Of course Arthur wouldn't allow himself to be played in the idiot's palms so he would try hard to think of an unforgettable comeback that never failed to put Alfred in his inner hall of shame. 

Just as he was about to close his eyes though, his phone suddenly rang with the music,  _ Captain America March  _ playing. Alfred put the song in his phone and made it as a ringtone only for him so that Arthur would know it was him who's calling. The Brit tried to place other tones but Alfred insisted on the song he chose since it sounded very heroic. Seeing that an argument about it would lead to nothing, Arthur gave up and granted the American's request. 

" _ Artie! I thought you weren't gonna answer! _ " 

"The hell is it this time? We just arrived home okay? If you're going to ask me out do it next week!" 

" _ I haven't even said anything!"  _

"I don't need to wait for you to say anything!" 

" _ Whatever! Look, I'm sorry to disturb you I need tell you now or else I'll get a stronger blow from you tomorrow- If you know what I mean- _ " 

"Alfred!" 

" _ Okay! Fine! Sorry! So uh, mom's inviting you to dinner tomorrow so... yeah. _ " 

Arthur rubbed his cheeks in irritation. He was going to meet the other's parents again and oh how much he hated that. Mrs. Jones was tolerable but her husband? Arthur didn't want to see him. Mr. Jones spoke too much unnecessary words and he could clearly tell that the man hated him. He didn't like the vibes around Mr. Jones whenever he was around. 

" _ Hello? Still there? _ " 

But then there really was nothing he could do. Refusing would blast the whole act. 

"Okay, I understand." 

" _ Woah! Dude you must be really tired since you didn't argue much. Did I... really tire you that much babe?"  _ Arthur rolled his eyes. There was Alfred's unnecessary 'double-meaning sentences' again. 

"Now that you ask... My back is still pretty  _ sore _ ." 

There was silence for a moment on the other line. Arthur smirked. The American probably didn't expect him to answer back something like that. 

"Love? Are you still there? Goodness did I tire you as well?" 

" _ NO! I mean, no babe. Just a little, nothing to worry about kay'? Now go and rest. _ " There was a short pause. " _ You need plenty of rest because surely, I'd tire you up more for the nights to come. Kay' bye! _ " 

The line went dead. 

Arthur gripped his phone as his eye twitched. " _ American bastard! _ " 

Once again, his phone went flying to his door just in time when Peter entered. 

"OW! Brother, what was that for!?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN! dundundundundundund!   
> wohoo!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sembreeeeeaaaaaaaaak! FTW!

There were many things that shocked both blonde boys for the evening and the very first one was... 

" _ Ah, Arthur it has been a while! Come take a seat!"  _

_ Mrs. Jones happily pointed at the seat right in front of her which Alfred pulled out. Arthur secretly glared at him for doing so. He was not a lady to be treated like that. Nonetheless he covered everything up with a fake smile and a sweet thank you. The American winked at him after which almost made the other hiss. Luckily, Arthur was good at controlling himself.  _

_ He couldn't stop the shaking if his hands though the moment his eyes landed on Mr. Jones and his electrifying stare at him. He tried his best to focus only on Mrs. Jones' blabbering but the stare that was shot at him wasn't possible to ignore. He had dinner with the Jones quite many times and had been at their main home due to Alfred's mother's daily requests, and yet Arthur could never get used it. Not with David Jones around to shoot him cold and icy glares. He wondered why he still hadn't melted after all those times,  _

_ Sandra Jones liked Arthur very much. She already told her husband about accepting Arthur as their son's lover, though still she would've preferred if Arthur was a girl, a woman, a lady who could give her grandchildren. But that wasn't so important if she would compare it with her son's happiness. Besides, the two guys could adopt if they wanted right?  _

_ She didn't fail to notice the small changes in Alfred from when Arthur came. Her son was a lot more cheerful and active ever since he introduced Arthur to them and Sandra thought that maybe it was because the weight on Alfred's shoulders about keeping his sexuality a secret had been lifted. Of course it wasn't just from her observations. She sent spies to confirm the truth of everything and to observe his son and Arthur's behaviours. The reports she got were all the same.  _

_ Alfred always was in touch with Arthur through his phone whenever and wherever he went. It was as if he couldn't last a day without hearing Arthur's voice.  _

_ His son would always stop by the restaurant Arthur was working at and wait until the Brit finished his work. Afterwards he would drive him home.  _

_ She fiddled once with Alfred's phone and there were so many pictures of them that looked rather sweet. She couldn't hide the squeals she made every time she would look at them. That only made her husband more frustrated though.  _

_ She actually took Alfred's phone when he was taking a shower and browsed through the new pictures from their vacation. His wallpaper was changed again, from both of their faces to Arthur's sleeping picture. Her eyes didn't fail to notice that Arthur wasn't wearing a shirt despite the blanket covering until the sandy blonde's shoulders. Well the shoulders gave it away.  _

_ If only she knew all the hardships Alfred went through just to take that one special shot. And only if Alfred knew how all his hard works were paying off. He would've shove everything up on Arthur's face and boast at how greatly convincing he was.  _

_ Back to Sandra Jones, she was smiling from ear to ear during the whole dinner, a complete opposite of David's frowning face. The frown on his face though had a whole different meaning that night and it wasn't only about his son being gay.  _

" _ Well boys," Sandra gently placed her fork down and leaned to her side by her husband. "David here has something to say. Right hon?"  _

" _ Yeah." He nodded and took in a glass of water all the way down. The blonde's on the other side of the table watched him empty the whole glass without even breathing and it was kind of amusing to watch. When he was done, the glass was put down with a loud clunk as he breathed in before finally starting what he meant to say.  _

" _ As you know Alfred, it is very hard for me to believe that you're," He paused and looked up the ceiling.  _

" _ Gay, dad."  _

" _ Ah yes. That. That you're that." He couldn't say it. "So I'll be honest. I had the both of you followed for the past month. I had Arthur investigated as well and I've learned a lot of things." He looked at Arthur who stiffened the moment their eyes met. "Arthur Kirkland, I just want to apologize for everything I said during our first lunch together. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."  _

_ Surprise number 1 for Arthur. Well, Alfred was surprised as well but it had a bigger impact on Arthur. For once, Mr. Jones talked to him without any hint of anything negative.  _

" _ Mr. Jones I, I never was uh, mad at you so you don't have to apologize, really sir."  _

" _ You can address me as David or if you want you can call me, d-dad." It was barely a whisper when Mr. Jones managed to say the last word. It wasn't because he was reluctant about it. It was just so embarrassing.  _

_ Arthur as well was beginning to turn red from embarrassment and the shaking of his hands were growing stronger. If it weren't for Alfred holding them on his own (which he assumed as an act despite their hands were unseen), his hands would've been tearing out every last bit of the tissue paper on their table.  _

" _ Ah... yes." Should he say it? No, Arthur decided against calling him dad. It was too much. He felt bad as well since he sensed sincerity in David's voice as he apologized and there he was in the middle of an act. He was fooling him and he didn't like it. "But there's really nothing to apologize. I never was mad, honestly. But if it would make you better, I accept your apology." He forced a smile and looked down at his and Alfred's hands. He didn't bother to fight the other about it as of the moment for he was feeling guilty.  _

_ Alfred knew what the other was feeling as he held those trembling hands on their own. He felt bad as well just by looking at Arthur.  _

" _ Thank you Arthur." For the first time, Mr. Jones smiled at him as he sighed in relief. Yet another thing that added to the Brit's guilt. "Goodness, now that's one thorn out from my chest."  _

" _ Well I'm quite sure that's not the only thing you plan on telling him right?" Sandra winked at him and he rolled his eyes.  _

_ Alfred and Arthur's head perked up. There was more? They questioned and it was obvious in their eyes they were curious to whatever David Jones was going to say next.  _

" _ Okay, the next is," He cleared his throat. "I would like you to know that I accept the fact that you my son, is indeed, a..."  _

" _ You accept that I'm gay?" David nodded.  _

_ Surprise for Alfred.  _

_ Alfred had his eyes opened wide as he leaned forward. He didn't know if he was happy about it, or if he was frustrated about his father giving up about him being straight.  _

" _ And along that is, I accept Arthur as your lover."  _

_ Another surprise.  _

_ Arthur blinked many times as Alfred slowly sank back down on his chair beside Arthur. Both of them were wearing the same shocked faces. Wide eyes, hanging jaw, barely breathing.  _

" _ Welcome to the family Arthur!" Sandra exclaimed.  _

Those were just too much to handle in one night for some reason and yet the surprised didn't seem to end there as a knock on the door of the dining room was heard. A servant went in together with a visitor upon Sandra's approval to enter. The lady that walked behind the butler caused both green and blue eyes to widen one more. The sound of thin heels resonated from the floor which each step the lady took as she approached the table with a sweet yet meaningful smile. Their eyes travelled up and down her body as they noticed the great changes in her. 

Her hair was cut short and reached up only above her shoulders. A headband with a big ribbon on the side kept the strands from flying away. Her outfit, it was a lot more bolder and revealing, yet not in a slutty way. It was kind of teasing. Her way of dressing was different than before since it exposed more skin, the two blondes noticed. 

The American had an idea of her purpose for coming, draped an arm around Arthur's shoulders for a reason, and leaned in close to the other's ear and whispered. 

" _ They got bigger. _ " 

" _ I know. It's hard not to notice. _ " Arthur whispered back as he leaned unconsciously to the American's body. Ashley of course didn't fail to notice the closeness of the two but she chose to ignore it for it might ruin all her plans. 

" _ Artie, I know why she's here. _ " 

" _ I'm not an idiot Alfred. I have a clear idea. _ " 

" _ You know what to do then? _ " 

Arthur nodded his head and smiled lovingly at the other as he met his eyes. 

" _ Lead me. _ " 

Alfred was surprised for a second at the sudden change in the other's tone. He smirked right after and his arm pulled the Brit closer to him. 

Arthur wasn't really one who liked to hurt people, especially women. He hated the fact about fooling them and making them cry. To be honest he felt bad about what he and Alfred were going to try to pull in front of her for it would hurt her. But then there was something inside Arthur that was screaming to go on with the plan. There was something about her that the Brit didn't like and one of those was her being fake. The smile she flashed at the 4 people on the table, Arthur knew it wasn't real. The fact that she wanted Alfred to herself, it was only because of the other's looks (no homo). She just didn't like women who had that kind of attitude. 

"Ashley my dear! Ling time no see!" Sandra greeted with joy, not a hint of pretending. She truly was happy to see the other. "Come take a seat! Oh you should've told me you were coming. And oh! You cut your hair! You looked good with long hair but I guess your new hairstyle fits you better." She motioned for the empty chair beside her. Their butler pulled the seat to give her way and make her comfortable as she sat down. 

"Thank you for the compliment. And I'm sorry for not informing you sooner. I was at the nearby mall you see and the thought about visiting just came in my mind. If I had known you had  _ a visitor  _ I wouldn't have gone." 

She smiled wider and took a quick glance at Arthur who smiled back at her much to her annoyance.  _ Was he not intimidated?  _ She thought and her eyes were cast on Alfred who did not returned her gaze for he was busy playing with  _ his boyfriend's  _ messy hair as if trying to tame it. Her blood boiled, but she knew better than throw the plates at them. Why was Alfred not checking her out? 

"Visitor?" Sandra raised a brow in question. "Ah you mean Arthur? You've met before right? Though your meeting wasn't the best to be honest." 

"About that," Arthur spoke suddenly, slightly detaching himself from Alfred who was looking at him in question. "Ms. Ashley I would like to apologize for that. I didn't mean to-" 

"Hush babe." Alfred interrupted as he brushed some of Arthur's bangs off his pale face. From the corner of his eyes he could see Ashley's reaction. "You did nothing wrong. I should be the one apologizing." He said, and he meant it. It was true anyway; it was all his crazy idea. 

He removed his arm around Arthur and sat straight as he looked at Ashley in the eyes. He wore a serious expression which his parents were surprised at, for they never thought their son could ever pull such a serious face. 

"I'm sorry Ashley; I've embarrassed not only you but your family as well. Mom and Dad, I apologized to you before but I guess I'll say sorry again." He smiled a little as he tried to look very cute, sincere, and innocent. Arthur's eyes resisted their urge to twitch though. He had enough of the other's seemingly innocent look for he had it always displayed whenever he would ask Arthur a favour. 

"There's no need to apologize Alfred." Ashley replied, also faking her smile. Her voice showed no hints of anger but the other 4 knew better. Even Mr. Jones who had been quiet for the past minutes was not as clueless. "I wasn't mad at you. Besides, I think it's just right you know? I mean what you did was fine. It was better than pretending to like me." But no it wasn't fine at all and Ashley also preferred Alfred to pretend to like him. Who knows? The pretending might become real. 

It might even become real for the two male blondes on the other side of the table. But it wasn't like the other 3 knew. 

"Thanks for understanding!" Alfred beamed and his arm was back around Arthur again as he looked at him, blue to green. "Because you see, I really really really love this angel beside me." 

It took all of Arthur's power not to punch the other in the face as the words dripped from the American's lips like honey. His face grew hot from embarrassment as well for never in his life was he spoken to like that. It pissed him for he was made to sound like a chick when he wasn't even one. The redness of his face was helping though as it made him appear to be flattered yet embarrassed at the same time. He averted his gaze quickly and stared down at his fingers with wide eyes. He tried to steady his breathing. As he turned his head to look down though, Alfred leaned forward and rested his lips on the shorter male's hair. He could feel the American's warm breath tickle the strands near his ear and he froze. 

He was very sensitive near those parts. But of course he did his best to hide it and one of the main reasons was he can't afford Alfred to know his weakness or else it might be used against him. 

Three different expressions can be seen from across them. 

Ashley was smiling widely yet forced. 

Sandra Jones looked so excited and happy, her hands clutched against each other. 

And David Jones, he tried his best to keep a straight face as he looked somewhere else. 

"Don't say something like that  _ Al _ , it's embarrassing." Arthur said in almost a whisper though he made sure everyone would hear his voice. 

"Oh look, your face is red." The taller chuckled but didn't move away from his position. There they go again, acting, flirting shamelessly with the presence of other people in the area. 

"It's not!" He looked up at the American only to turn his head back down on his fingers quickly which made the embarrassment he was feeling very real. He mumbled a soft 'idiot' right after which made the other laugh. 

"Okay fine. I won't do it again Artie, kay?" He smiled as leaned in for a kiss, 

...leaned  _ in  _ for a kiss, 

...leaned in for  _ a kiss,  _

on the shorter male's lips which actually surprised the both of them. 

_ Good lord did I just?  _

Alfred froze. 

The Brit looked up to meet Alfred's equally wide eyes. The American was just as surprised as him for he didn't know why he did that. Maybe his body automatically moved since it was what he always did whenever he was flirting with a girl? It was like his body was programmed? He didn't know and he didn't have any idea. He and Arthur never went beyond hugging and cuddling so it was a shock for the both of them, especially for Alfred. To cover everything up though, he let out a shaky laugh and turned to look at the people against them. The arm on Arthur's shoulder slowly sinking away. 

"Well, uh, let's finish eating folks!" He happily suggested as he took the steak and placed huge amounts on his own plate. The others followed suit. 

Both guys tried their best to keep on their act, though they were now having difficulty in being all lovey-dovey after that short kiss. It was just a peck and yet it was a lot to handle for some reason. Alfred dropped his utensils quite a number of times because of his shaking hands. It bothered him; the lingering warmth of the Brit's lips on his own bothered him big time. Why was it that he could still somehow feel it? It was just a quick kiss, just a quick one and yet he was feeling like that. 

He didn't like the feeling. He didn't like it one bit. He drank so many glasses of water and juice and yet the warmth was still there. 

"L-love, are you okay?" Arthur managed to say as he looked at Alfred with a fake concerned face. Alfred could only nod his head and smile. 

"YES! I mean, uh, yeah I'm fine nothing to worry about because I'm fine you know?" 

"Whatever you say." The Brit smiled and continued to eat which made Alfred sigh in relief. His voice squeaked as he spoke and his heart raced miles and miles per second every beat. 

_ This is not good. This is bad! This is not cool. This is bad, bad, bad.  _

Alfred thought. 

_ This is so not cool dude. Not cool...  _

Cold stares were sent towards the both of them from Ashley yet the two were too too bothered to notice. The kiss added fuel to the fire within the girl and he had to try everything she could just to resist herself from pulling out Arthur's tongue  and burning it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buuuurn Ashleeey, buuurrrn! XD TBC~ Imma bully Ashley more on the next chappie~ Ohohohoho!   
> Thanks for the support guys! Thank you for the reviews, and alerts, and faves. Alaboo! :D


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turut turut~

For the tenth time, Alfred dropped his fork and the clatter echoed from the marbled floor. He sighed and let out a shaky laugh as he bent down once again to retrieve it. When he straightened up, the maid who had been providing him a new piece was already by his side as she took the soiled fork with a smile and gave him a new and clean one. 

He mentally cursed himself. _This is bad._ He thought as he went back to eating. The small talk her mother would start, he didn't pay any attention. _This is bad. If I continue acting like this—no. If_ **_we_ ** _continue acting like this, it would be suspicious and that would not be good._ He secretly took a glance at Arthur who was all smiles as he entertained her mother's seemingly unending stories. He looked unbothered unlike Alfred who was already sweating from his seat. The kiss shouldn't be a big deal, it was an accident. It was acting. It was something that can be easily forgotten. By how Arthur looked, he already forgot about the whole thing and Alfred was determined to do the same. If continued to be uneasy, he would screw all their hard work. 

He breathed in and out as he tried to think of what he could do. He should be sweet to Arthur and vice versa. But the shorter male told him to take the lead, meaning Arthur wouldn't do anything unless the American would make the first move. His part of the play was only to support him. For a moment Alfred felt like he was some lead actor, or a hero with a sidekick to back him up and make every action perfect. Just by the thought of it, spirits were slowly rising and plans were formulating in his mind. He was back to his old, genius, and mischievous self. His blue eyes wandered off to Ashley who kept on trying to gain his parents attention from Arthur. Once or twice she would leave comments that seemed innocent yet in reality, was trying to attack the Brit. Arthur kept the smile on, and Alfred could clearly see how confident he was at attacking back with his own, calm and sweet words. It amused the American at how good the other acted. Somehow he was glad it was Arthur whom he chose to be his partner in crime. 

Arthur felt eyes on him and looked questioningly at Alfred. His smile almost faltered when he saw the change in the American's eyes. He knew the other was up to something and he braced himself for whatever it was. Alfred was unpredictable and full of weird surprises, he should be ready. The kiss was unexpected and he braces himself just in case another one was planned. It wasn't like he did like it, hell no he didn't. He prayed for it not to happen again, but in the situation they were in, it wasn't like he could do anything against it. 

"Is something wrong love?" 

"Ah, nothing really. My eyes can't seem to take themselves away from you is all." 

He smiled and stared right back at the American who had his head turned back to his own plate. As green eyes focused on his face, he turned his head back to meet Arthur's eyes with a questioning look. 

"Something wrong Artie?" 

"Nothing sorry. My eyes had difficulty in leaving you as well it seems." 

Alfred intentionally loosened his grip on the utensil which caused it to drop on the floor as he stared right back at the other, seemingly losing himself in those green eyes. 

"You could look away now Alfred. You don't want me melting anytime now do you?" 

"If I could, I would've looked away already you know. Besides, speak for yourse-" 

Ashley intentionally dropped his fork and spoon as well which landed on the floor louder than necessary. The noise caused both blondes on the other side of the table to break away from their little staring contest as their attention was taken by the clatter. Alfred chuckled and mumbled an apology; Arthur bit his lips as if embarrassed. 

"Gosh I'm so careless!" Ashley exclaimed but did nothing to pick up the utensils on the floor. She motioned for a servant to come near with her finger and pointed down. As she was handed a new pair she giggled and apologized once more. At least she was triumphant in removing Alfred's attention back the other. But she knew she can't just keep on dropping forks, spoons, and knives for the whole evening. 

The two blonde guys glanced at each other secretly; Alfred held a thumbs-up from his lap as to not be seen. Arthur rolled his eyes and continued eating though he must admit he was slightly amused as well. 

The dinner continued and Sandra did all the talking with Arthur. From time to time Ashley would say something as well but soon she would find herself out of the picture. She hated it, the attention was supposed to be on her especially Alfred's. And that arm around the Brit's shoulder, it should be around her! So she tried to find a way. Her purple eyes scanned the almost empty plates and an idea formed in her mind. 

"Um, you mentioned about having banana splits for dessert?" She smiled at Sandra whose face brightened up as she nodded. 

"Thanks for reminding me darling!" Her head whipped at Arthur and Alfred much to the other's disappointment. "Would you like for it to be served now?" She asked and Ashley gripped the skirt. She was the one who reminded her, why was she asking Arthur? 

The dessert was served and everyone had a fair share. Ashley smiled as she formulated her plans. 

She pulled her top a little bit down to expose more of her cleavage; of course she tried her best not to be noticed by the others as she did. _Finally, you're of some use._ She thought as she stared down her boobs. A smile crept on her face as she innocently brought a spoon of ice cream in her mouth only to let it fall like an accident over her boobs. She gasped, she truly gasped because of the sudden cold feeling that was now trickling all the way down and in the middle of her two melons. 

"Oh my," She gasped which earned all of his companion's attention. She secretly looked at Alfred who was clearly staring at her boobs with the ice cream staining it sexily. Arthur was staring as well but she didn't care about Arthur anyway. She smirked but quickly her lips formed an 'O' as she acted like she didn't like what was happening. She puffed her chests out in an attempt to make it more noticeable as she tried to look bothered. 

"It's cold gosh! Ugh, does anyone have a tissue or hanky?" She wiped the ice cream with her hand as if attempting to take the crawling melted food off, but her intention was different. It was on purpose, and the way she spread the ice cream over her boobs made Alfred's throat dry. Arthur already averted his gaze away as he thought it was not right to stare like a perverted man. He was a gentleman after all. Automatically his hands reached out for his pocket and took his own handkerchief before offering it to Ashley who only stared at it in shock. 

"Here, this will help." Arthur smiled. Of course Ashley can't say not to the Brit for it would be rude and obvious that she didn't like him, that she wanted him out of her and Alfred's life. So she smiled back hesitantly and took the handkerchief which she used to wipe the ice cream away. It was only then that Alfred was able to get over the trance brought by the boobs, and realized it was Ashley's plan. She was fighting back and he can't let her win. He knew that the girl did notice his stare. Damn he needed to find a way to be back in the lead. 

He stared at the dessert in front of him. What can he do with it and Arthur? Accidentally spilling it on the other was not a very good plan, it was just like imitating Ashley's act and he didn't like it. He needed to pull something greater than that. He was Alfred Jones; he should come up with something. 

"Alfred?" He turned his head as he heard Arthur call him only to be met by the other's finger on his cheek. He was a little surprised though. The Brit laughed. "If you only saw your face, it's funny." He continued laughing and as Alfred watched him, an idea descended from above and landed in his brain. 

He smirked and dipped one finger in the ice cream before putting it on Arthur's cheeks which led for the other to stop laughing. 

"Now, who looks funny Artie?" He winked and Arthur understood. The Brit did the same and put ice cream on Alfred's face with a laugh. The other did the same and soon they were trying to stain each other's faces, at the same time genuinely enjoying as if they were a child playing with the food. Alfred suddenly caught both of Arthur's wrists. As the other struggled to free himself, Alfred leaned closer in his ear and once more the Brit's face was red as he felt the American's breath tickle his ear's shell. Why did he have to do that? He cursed under his breath. As Alfred whispered though, he tried his best to focus his attention at the instruction being given so suddenly. 

As Alfred whispered, he made sure everyone was looking. 

" _Act like you're so embarrassed then excuse yourself to the bathroom. I'll follow after a while._ " Arthur didn't know what the other was planning but there was no other choice but to trust him and go with whatever Alfred meant to do. He sighed in relief as the other leaned back, leaving his ear at peace. When the taller blonde winked, he looked away and acted like he was stuttering, with no proper words ever leaving his lips. 

"I—Uh, I'll j-ju-just." 

"Artie? What's wrong?" His voice was low and teasing and Arthur took it as a cue to flee. 

"Nothing!" He squeaked and stood up abruptly as he turned to the other people across the table. "Uhm, excuse me I'll just clean myself off." With that he practically ran away the door. 

"Alfred," His mother turned to him with a brow raised. "What did you tell Arthur? He looked so..." 

"I just told him he's cute." He chuckled as he wiped the ice cream off his face with his own handkerchief. "Don't worry, he really is like that. Every time I tell him he's cute he says he's not and walks away." 

He heard Ashley clear her throat and when he looked at her, she was wearing a pout and her eyes were looking at him like she was a child deprived of something. Alfred knew she was trying to be cute as well. 

"But why would Arthur not like that?" She said in a small voice and it Alfred almost wanted to throw the whole banana split at her. Boobs be damned! The baby talk was a turn off. "I mean, if I were to be called cute, I would definitely like it!" Deep inside Alfred, he would never ever call her cute like what she wanted. 

"Aww, so Arthur's like David here." Mrs. Jones leaned on her husband's shoulders. "He refused to be called cute." Mr. Jones could only roll his eyes and look away. 

Alfred looked at his watch as he stood up with a smile. 

"Where are you going?" Ashley asked with her eyes wide open. Alfred wanted to tell her that those kind of eyes wouldn't work on him for it didn't look good on her. Heck he was better at doing puppy eyes and he knew it for it worked every time on the Brit. 

"I'll go after Arthur. He might," His voice suddenly changed into a low tone as he walked away. "He might need some _help_." 

With the way he sounded, the other 3 knew what he meant though of course it was what he wanted them to think. 

"Artie? Artie it's me, open the door." He knocked on the bathroom door as he asked for permission to go in. The maids that would pass by them took secret glances and giggled among themselves as they assumed what might happen after the door was opened and their young master was let inside. 

When the door creaked open, before Arthur could even step inside Alfred shoved himself in which caused Arthur to stumble back on the tiled floor. 

"What the—Alfred!" He shouted and his voice was heard from the outside and now the maids had their imaginations running wild. Why was the young Jones eager to barge inside? The other shouted his name as if he was shoved off. Their cheeks flushed as they tried to think about what was happening between the two and all they could say was, _poor Arthur._

What was happening inside was different of course. Alfred was on top of Arthur with his hand on the other's mouth to prevent him from screaming and throwing curses all over him. The other tried his best to punch the other's face but the American was stronger than him so all the punches thrown were futile. 

"Damn Arthur! Keep still or else I won't remove my hand." Arthur glared at the guy on top of him as he tried to calm down. When his hands rested by his side, Alfred sighed and removed himself on top of the other. "Geez, that wasn't so hard isn't it?" He scratched the back of his head as Arthur sat up beside him. 

"It's your fault git. You didn't have to throw yourself in like that!" 

"That was necessary!" Arthur quirked a brow as he leaned tiredly on the tiled wall. "You see, the maids saw me force myself in and push you, and they heard you shout my name. What kind of idea do you think will they have?" The Brit rolled his eyes. He didn't really have to answer even if he knew. 

"Damn, we almost got owned with the ice cream trick! I know it was intentional! The way she spread the—" 

"Please, I don't even want to remember." Arthur closed his eyes and covered them with his hand as he tried to erase the image from his mind. 

"But hey, they're fake aren't they?" Alfred mumbled as he ran a hand through his hair. "I mean, they're obviously fake but..." 

"But boobs are boobs, fake or not it can make a man hard." Arthur continued with a sigh. "That's why I refused to watch her little show off. Wait, don't tell me you-" 

"Luckily I didn't. Thank goodness I didn't! Damn it, we need a good comeback." 

"And what do you have in mind?" 

Alfred stood up as he took off his shirt with a grin and Arthur immediately felt his throat run dry as crawled backwards away from the American. 

"Oh no. Don't tell me- No no no no—ALFRED I SAID NO!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BAHAHA! I have no idea how I came up with this chapter waaah!   
> Sorry for taking sooo long! I was out of town for uh, 2 weeks? 3? DX   
> Anywaaaay, thank you so much for the support! I really love you guys! You're all awesoooome! :P   
> Open to suggestions, criticisms, and violent reactions! Haha! :P   
> I'll edit someday.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TANGATANGATANGATANGA!~~

" _ I'm tired Alfred."  _

" _ Oh come on! You've got some poor stamina geez."  _

" _ But we've been doing this for how many minutes now?"  _

" _ Just a few. Damn Artie, you tire too fast!"  _

" _ Can't blame me about that idiot! We're in a damn restroom. The air's thin here."  _

" _ But I'm breathing just fine."  _

" _ It's because you're a freak."  _

" _ Ouch. That hurt."  _

" _ Whatever. I can't go on anymore."  _

" _ Hey! Get on your knees! We're not done yet hey!"  _

" _ I'm not a bloody woman you arse!"  _

It took all of the maids' effort not to squeal as the conversation went on. Audible heavy breaths were heard from the other side of the door where their ears were firmly pressed. Questions ran around their minds, assumptions that complemented their fantasies flooded their thoughts. What was happening behind the door was a mystery they wanted so badly to find out. As much as they wanted to stay more though, their attention was called as they still had work to do. So with a great moment of hesitation, they looked at each other knowingly before finally detaching themselves from the door. 

There hurried footsteps were of course noticed by Alfred who was currently trying to pry Arthur up from the floor. The Brit was on his back as his arms were being pulled by Alfred. His mouth was open as heavy breathes escaped him. 

"They're gone dude." 

"I know, now will you  _ please  _ let me rest?" 

At first, the American looked hesitant of granting the request. But after eyeing Arthur for a while, seeing his wrinkled shirt and the sweat that dripped down his forehead, he decided to agree. He let go of his arm which immediately fell limp on the floor along with Arthur. Alfred let himself fall beside him as he wiped some sweat on his nose. 

"Damn you." 

Arthur sat up and glared at the other who only smiled and held a thumbs-up at him which annoyed him more. 

"Don't be like that! It's gonna pay off don't worry!" 

"Hah, and it what way could it possibly be of my benefit?" 

"Well..." Alfred stared up the ceiling as Arthur crawled to sit beside him; his green eyes unconsciously looked up as well. "There are the epic faces of my parents which would be worth laughing at, and then there's Ashley of course!" He stopped himself from letting out a girly squeal out of excitement as he clenched his fists. He could already visualize it. The epic expressions that was waiting for them. Those jaws that once again would hang, and those eyes that could only stare in confusion as wild thoughts ran in their  _ victims'  _ minds. 

"I should be feeling guilty." Alfred's eyes wandered as Arthur muttered, and he was a bit of surprised when he saw a small smile on the other's face in between the heavy breathing. 

"But you're not? Feeling guilty I mean." 

Arthur shook his head. "I don't know why but, I can't sense and guilt running in my veins." 

"Hmm... Yeah, me too." 

"Of course you don't. You're  _ Alfred Jones  _ remember." 

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" 

They met each other's eyes for a split second before they let out the laughter they've been trying to contain ever since the maids had their ears off the door. It took them a minute or so to get over it. 

For a moment, there was a comforting silence between the two. Alfred simply looked at Arthur. He was staring, he didn't know why he was staring, and he didn't even know he was actually staring. Watching the other try to calm his breathing was... amusing? With his green eyes barely seen in between those long British lashes, his cheeks flushed scarlet, and his lips moist and slightly parted. He was quite sure, that if ever he was to join the army of homosexuals, Arthur would be his initial target. 

_ Wait. Join the army of what?  _

Alfred quickly looked away and shook his head. 

_ I did not. Just. Thought of that.  _

_ Yes you did.  _

_ No I didn't!  _

_ Yes you—  _

_ Gawd where is this voice coming from?  _

_ Where? Why Alfred, I'm Alfred as well!  _

_ What? But I'm Alfred! You can't be Alfred!  _

_ Yes I am! I'm the other side of Alfred Jones, one that—  _

_ Alfred Jones has no other side! Geez Why am I even talking with you damn it you—  _

"The fuck is wrong with you?" 

Alfred almost jumped up as he felt Arthur's hand on his shoulder. He tumbled to his side as if the other's touch was something that could cause his death. His eyes stared blankly at him as he tried to form words in his mouth. But what would he say? 

_ The fuck is wrong with you?  _

_ Yeah, the fuck is wrong with me?  _

"Nothing!" He blurted after spacing out for a second. "Uh, anyway let's go?" Alfred stood up and pulled Arthur's lithe arm with extra force, more than what was necessary that the Brit had heard he would lose an arm for a second. At the back of Arthur's mind he was thinking if burgers were at fault for the American's somewhat inhuman strength. He quickly dismissed the idea though. 

As Arthur lifted a hand to straighten the wrinkles on his polo, it was immediately stopped by the other. 

"Why?" 

"Well duh? I'm trying to make it look like we... We, we, we uuh...  _ fucked. _ " His voice sounded like he was going through puberty all over again as he said the last part of the sentence. A hand immediately cupped his mouth before he could even say anything more. 

"That wasn't necessary, Alfred." The younger could only nod in agreement. "Anyway, fine, let's go." He said as he stretched his arms while he walked towards the door. There were the sound of the soft cracking of bones that was barely audible as he rotated his shoulders. 

"You' fine dude?" 

"It's 'are you fine, Arthur?'" Alfred rolled his eyes as he reached for the door knob. 

"Geez who cares? So, you' fine?" 

"No." 

"You look fine to me though." 

A bright smile followed as he opened the door and stepped outside, cautiously looking left and right before pulling Arthur out with him who, once again complained about the unnecessary force applied as he was pulled. 

"Will you  _ please  _ fucking control that ridiculous strength of yours?" 

"What? Why? Your arms are fine!" 

"Are you kidding me?" 

"Dude. Like, doing push-ups is totally not a big deal." 

"Doing it for the first time in many years and for the weirdest part, IN the bathroom is an entirely DIFFERENT ST-" 

His voice seemed to return back in his voice box as Alfred turned around by surprise. 

With his face merely a few inches away from his own. 

Not to mention that his eyes were capable of making you forget whatever it was you were currently thinking of for a second. 

And that irritated Arthur. 

"W-what are you-" 

"You just had sex. You're tired. You're not in the mood for arguments. Because you're tired. Now please make that convincing." Alfred whispered and winked before he turned around with Arthur's hand on his own grip. 

For the first time, Arthur shut up. 

The night was cloudless and even with the city's bright lights the stars can still be clearly seen. It wasn't as cold as they expected, or maybe it was the beer that made them warm. Okay, so it was juice for the other. Whatever. Neither really cared. The day was over, they survived, they were still alive, and everything ended better that what they had imagined. Their goal: 'Piss the bitch off', or how Alfred liked to call it, was achieved and they got the reaction they expected to get. What was there to care for? 

"And and and and she was like, ' _ I need to go now. I need to rest, because I'm a GIRL. I'm a GIRL alright? I'm a GI— _ '" 

"Goodness Alfred! Aren't you tired of saying that over and over again?" 

"Nopey!" He laughed as he gulped down another can. "It was just so epic! I mean, did'ya see her face? Oh and the way she pushed a fake boob up as she stood?" His hand did the gesture as he tried to copy what he saw. 

"I don't think you need to give emphasis it being fake." 

"But come on! You know what? I don't get it." Alfred sighed as he leaned back. His eyes aimlessly stared at the people that walked pass by. 

"You don't get what?" 

"Girls. I don't get them. And dude, no homo implication I swear." 

He raised a brow at Alfred. Before the other could say more though, he immediately cut him off with a wave of a hand. "You know, the more you are defensive, the more I'll suspect you're  _ gradually turning to the other region. _ " Arthur chuckled. "Anyway, no one really gets them. Even girls don't get themselves." 

"But still! You know, like why did she need to have big tits? Her boobs were fine. I mean, boobs are boobs dude. We aren't that choosy with the size geez." His blue eyes unconsciously wandered from chest to chest as women passed by. 

They were interrupted though as Arthur pinched his cheek. 

"If you're going to go sightseeing, then please make it a little less obvious. I don't want to go home with a hand mark on my face." 

"Oops. Sorry. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh right, about the boob issue. Where was I?" 

"About not being picky with the size." 

"Oh yeah, right! So, we're not picky with the size, but you know what's unfair? THEY ARE! It's like, a requirement to have a big manhood—" 

"Manhood?" Alfred stared questioningly at him. 

"Yeah, manhood. Why? What's wrong?" 

Arthur shook his head as he leaned forward. His elbows on his knees. "I was just expecting you to say 'dick' instead of manhood. Don't bother me, please continue." 

The American's brows curved. "You're weird." 

"You're one to talk." Alfred continued to talk as if he didn't hear anything. 

"So, it's a major requirement for them to have large manhoods. But hey! A dick is a dick and that's all that matters right?" 

"Alfred, you know what?" 

"What?" 

Arthur sat straight and leaned back, one shoulder rested on the bench's backrest as he turned slightly to face Alfred. "You sound like you're complaining about a girl complaining about your small penis." 

Alfred's jaw dropped and as realization of the words struck him, he abruptly stood up and loomed over the other. "WHAT? YOU DID NOT JUST SAY THAT! NO WAY! I TOTALLY HAVE A HUGE HEAVEN UNDERNEATH! MY DICK IS LIKE, LONGER THAN A METER STICK AND THAT'S NOT EVEN HARD YET! WANNA LOOK? DO Y -" 

"OKAAAY! That's enough beer for you Alfred Jones." The Brit grabbed the can away from the other's hand. 

"What? No way! I'm not drunk!" 

"I don't care! You're beginning to lose control of your mouth. People are staring at us. Bloody hell you're talking about your penis size in loudspeaker mode!" Arthur tried his best to say everything in a whisper as he hurriedly put the empty cans of beer inside the plastic bag they used upon purchase. 

"But you just insulted my manliness! How can I not-" 

"Oh do shut up and help me with this. I was just joking you git. And for the love of god I'm not interested with your size." He said as he rolled his eyes. 

"What are you doing with my beer?!" 

"They're empty, stupid." 

"Reeally? But you didn't even drink some!" 

"I don't want to." 

"But but but-" 

A slap on the forehead made the American sit back down as he tried to sooth the mild stinging sensation. The hit was hard and Alfred was sure it left a huge red hand mark. 

"Wow, you shut up. I should do that more often." 

Arthur stood up and threw their trash in the nearest bin and proceeded to walk away. His hands on his pocket, one of them touching the keys of his home and the other grasped on his handkerchief. Seeing this, Alfred's feet automatically jogged to catch up with the Brit and soon they were walking side by side again. 

"Where are you gonna go?" 

"Home obviously." 

" Why?" 

"Because I have one, Alfred. And Peter's probably still up waiting for me. I should go." He expected to here a whine, a snort, or any response from the American. It was weird, it was strange, and it was almost impossible for the younger blonde to run out of words. But when only the sound of their feet followed his sentence, he paused and decided to look at Alfred who was smiling as he gazed up the sky. "Alfred?" 

"Peter's cool you know?" His blue eyes travelled from the dark sky down to Arthur's own green ones who was looking at him confusingly. He chuckled. "I mean, I've talked to him many times when you're not at home." 

"You go there when I'm not around!?" 

"Well yeah! Meant to be for surprise visits but only a few were successful since you're always at work. So, yeah. Most of the time you're not around, I get to hang out for a few hours with Peter. I would bring my games from time to time even!" 

"Oh." Arthur turned around and continued walking again, knowing that the other would surely follow behind him. "He didn't tell me anything." 

"I told him not to."Alfred winked. "Because if you knew you're gonna ban me from your apartment." 

"Absolutely. And now that you said it, you're banned." 

"What!? No way! Besides, Peter likes me a lot! And he's a good opponent for my games!" The Brit only rolled his eyes. "I'm serious! And actually we have a rematch tomorrow!" 

"You're coming tomorrow?!" Alfred nodded his head enthusiastically. 

Arthur stared at him for a while. His frown being matched by the infamous smile of the idiot across him. He thought of how he could convince Alfred not to go since tomorrow was meant to be his rest day. It has also been a while since he had a whole peaceful day all to himself with only Peter disturbing him from time to time. And now here was another disturbance. 

"Fine!" 

In the end though, he just gave up the thought and sighed. He knew there was no helping it anyway. Besides, if the other had been visiting for a long time now, his brother must like his company. Peter must enjoy hanging out with Alfred. And well, that was a good enough reason to let it pass for Arthur. 

"Yey! That's what I love about you! Come on! I'll take you home!" Alfred beamed and quickly grabbed Arthur's hand as he pulled him across the street. His semi-drunken state made him giddier and his strength, Arthur thought, had doubled. He couldn't free his hand from the other unlike any other time. He complained, he cursed, he protested about how he can manage his self, and he even tried to hit the American with his free arm but it didn't have any effect. 

So he just had to put up with the other holding his hand. He had no other choice anyway, at the same time, ignoring the stares that the public was giving them. Arthur simply shook his head and let the American lead him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL DAMN I'M STILL ALIVE!   
> I am super sorry that it took me almost forever to update. I was so busy. And again I'm sorry because it will take me another long while to update. DX   
> College is raping me. asdfghjkl This is kind of rushed so feel free to point out any mistakes! And I'm sooo open to suggestions! XD   
> I've started the next chapie though, and just a little peek:   
> "Frog?"   
> -end-   
> XD XD XD XD XD XD XD XD XD THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE AWESOME REVIEWS! I LOVE YOU GUYS! ;_; 3


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> meow~!

Alfred was never a morning person. He never was one of those "early birds" who wanted to catch worms the moment the sun would rise because for him, the value of 13 hours of sleep was law, a divine rule, a requirement that the American diligently followed and obeyed. Well, what do you expect of Alfred Jones? No one in the entire history had seen him crawl out of his bed early in the morning and mingle with the other morning people. 

It was rare, almost never to begin with, for him to be up earlier than his usual morning boner. 

But that morning was kind of different. Because that morning, instead of peacefully closed lids and eyelashes, his eyes blinked fast like flickering lights as he jumped excitedly out of his bed and into his, what he liked to call, "box of treasures" the very minute his phone's alarm rang (which he didn't know why he even bothered to set). Overflowing DVDs and games began to pile up on the floor as his hands brought them out one by one as he picked what he believed was the best among the best among all. Before even a minute passed, the box was completely empty. Everything was the best for him anyway. He carefully placed them all back in and immediately proceeded to gather his game consoles he left tangled by the television which was still on as it flashed a blue screen. He placed everything on a separate box and carried it beside the latter one before he hopped off to the bathroom. 

He yawned as he faced his reflection on the mirror. Dark circles emphasized his eyes and reminded him of last night and the events that happened. He smiled and regretted nothing. He saw the sun set, and now he was going to see the sun rise, all those hours of him awake as spent on games, and laughing, and of coming up with a new plan which he was very exited on telling Arthur. That was the reason why he was up and about very early even if it was very, very, very, very, very unusual for him. He wanted to be at Arthur's home before he wakes up. Also, he had planned to cook their breakfast. Just a little something he thought of for Arthur's splendid performance the day before. Admittedly, he was still not over everything for some reason. It was just too awesome. 

So he took a quick bath, humming as he did so, and marched out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped on his torso. As he passed by his full length mirror, he did a few 'macho' poses and flashed himself a smile as he flexed the muscles on his arms. After he was satisfied, he threw the towel on his bed and walked freely to his closet, naked. 

" _ You sound like you're complaining about a girl complaining about your small penis. _ " 

He froze as Arthur's voice rang in his head. Why was he remembering it all of a sudden? But just to be sure, he looked down  _ there  _ to see if it was  _ still there  _ and the same as always. 

" _ Thank god..."  _

Of course it was still there. What gave him the idea of it flying away within the very few hours he slept? With that assurance he smiled and whistled as he tossed out from his cabinet a blue shirt, brown shorts, boxers, and underwear then wore everything fast starting from the last piece of cloth mentioned. 

He brushed his teeth, combed his hair, bla bla bla, and all the other usual morning stuff he did to get ready for the world, and for the world to get ready for him. With one last look on the mirror, he did another pose with the boxes in his arms before he headed out the door of his unit, down the elevator which had some other passengers who were forced to squeeze on one side due to the space he and the boxes occupied, then finally out the building and towards the parking lot where his beloved baby chev waited for him. 

"Good morning!" He greeted and the car's lights flashed in response as he clicked on the keys. He placed the boxes on the back seat and made sure that no matter how bumpy the ride might be. After that, he sat on the driver's seat and began to blast very loud music before he sped off. 

He got excited more and more for every street he passed by, a sign that he was getting nearer the British brothers' home. Hell he could even smell the pancakes he and Peter were supposed to make. And Arthur's scones! Arthur's expression was still clear in his mind when he first ate those. True they were not the most delicious scones in the city, but hey they were tolerable and magically they left a sweet aftertaste after all the burned stuff. 

Alfred really had no idea why he enjoyed their company so much. Maybe because they were somehow new and different? He had a lot of friends but whenever he was with them, they talk more about sex, and girls, and club hopping, and drinking, and girls. The typical American guys who loved bragging things. He was just too awesome for them. Heck, they didn't even like games that much unlike Peter. 

It didn't take him much time when he arrived by the townhouse that the Brits were living at. He rushed out of his car and jogged towards the door, only to remember the boxes he left behind. How could he have forgotten them? So he turned around to pick them up and just as he shut the door with the boxes finally cradled on his arm, the door of Arthur's home opened and revealed a scowling Arthur. 

"Artie! Aww, you came to see me first thing in the morning!" 

"Dream on, faggot." The sandy blonde mindlessly said. He hopped past Alfred as he tried to put on his shoe on one foot. Alfred snorted as he walked beside him, boxes still on his arms. 

"Faggot my ass. Hey, you goin' somewhere?" 

"Obviously." Arthur walked faster as he glanced on his watch. The American jogged to catch up. 

"Eh? Where?" 

"Work." 

"WHY?" 

Arthur stopped to look at Alfred and was surprised to see him look so frustrated and shocked. Something made him wanted to laugh, but he decided against it. 

"Why do you look so-" 

"Because today's supposed to be your rest day and you barely even rested from last night and, and, and I was going to cook pancakes for you!" 

And just as the words spilled out, Alfred regretted them. Since when did he care that much? Their eyes met for a while but he immediately turned his head and looked somewhere else while biting his lip as he waited for Arthur's reaction. The Brit would laugh, he knew it. Damn he was so embarrassed. As much as he wanted to say an excuse or a joke, anything that would cover it up, he could not think of anything and all he could do was to look away and wait for the other's reaction. 

"Well, thank you Alfred. I didn't know you were so... concerned." 

The gentle smile was uncalled for. He began stuttering for words to say once more. His face felt so hot. 

"I, uh. Of course! Th-the hero c-c-cares for e-everyone! HA! HAHAHA!" 

As he laughed his every heroic laugh, he hadn't noticed Arthur slowly inching up to him. If it weren't for the warm air that tickled his cheek, he wouldn't have known. It made him shut up in less than a second. 

"Thank you dear. I care for you so, so much as well.  _ I love you _ ." His voice was deep and soft, almost in a whisper. 

Alfred stumbled back, the box almost falling from his embrace. Once again, Arthur had him off guard. Why was he so mean? Now he looked stupid, with the Brit's arm on the trunk on the neighbor's car to prevent himself from kneeling as he laughed his soul out. The blue eyed male fumed and turned his back on the other and walked back to the Brit's residence. 

"Well fuck you too! Go leave for all I care you, you... ass!" Arthur's laugh gradually fainted as he stood up straight and fixed his shirt _. "I was even kind of serious about the pancakes. Shame."  _ He whispered to himself. 

"Whatever you say Alfred. But seriously though, thank you." There was that gentle voice again which made Alfred dare to look at Arthur one more time and to his surprise (and relief), the Brit wore a very genuine smile before he waved goodbye at him. "Take care of Peter for me while I'm gone okay? Bye!" 

"Yes! Bye!" The words came out abruptly and with that, his British friend turned his back at him and walked away briskly. He wanted to say more. He didn't know what thought, he just felt like he needed to say something. As he watched Arthur's retreating back, he sighed and let his lips form a smile as sweet as the other's. 

Maybe he really knew what to say, it just didn't occur to him immediately. 

" _ See you later Artie. Take care. _ " 

Francis fixed his hair and straightened his polo before he went out of his car. His strong perfume carried by the slight blow of the wind as he walked towards the restaurant where he would be meeting one of his, err, clients? Well, to be specific, a client-turned-lover whom he didn't intentionally wanted to be. It was just supposed to be the usual no- commitment relationship. He didn't know how it turned out to be deeper than that. So that day, he was going to fix everything! Actually he was wondering, just what came in to the woman's mind to think that they were going to together forever and ever and whatever. 

The moment he entered, a long, slender, slightly tanned arm was waving at him. It was her, obviously. He knew that arm anywhere. You see, Francis may be a  _ public lover _ , but the one thing positive about him was he remembered every detail of every girl he was with. He knew what was real or not, the skin tone, the pitch of their voices, their hair volume. Creepy as it sounds, he knew and remembered more. 

"Hey." He greeted with a low voice. 

"Heey!" The girl stood up and kissed Francis on the cheek before they both sat down. "What a surprise for you to invite me to eat this early." She leaned in closer which exposed her chest for Francis' eyes to feed. Her voiced lowered. "You want your dessert very early in the morning, no?" She giggled. 

Francis had to stop himself from just grabbing those jugs in front of him. Actually, he had to resist the invitation from her if he wanted to put a stop on their committed relationship. 

"Well, about that—" 

"Yesss?" 

He cursed deep inside. Why was she making this hard for him? 

Why was she making  _ it  _ hard for him? 

"Um, let's just order first, shall we?" 

Thankfully, his partner agreed. Again with the tanned arm, she called for the waiter. A blonde man, green eyes, and kind of thin approached them with a smile. Francis wasn't really paying attention as he checked his watch; the hands never seemed to move. If the woman didn't call his attention, he wouldn't have bothered minding. He didn't really care anyway. 

He randomly pointed at the menu before he handed it back with a smile at the waiter who only met him with a frown and a nod of his head. Francis stared at him, and well, the other fought back with a stare as well. Why was he staring at him anyway? Because they both had shoulder length hair? His own had more volume and way shinier. What was there to be bothered with? 

"Would you like to add anything else sir?" With obvious irritation in the waiter's voice, he shook his head which the other took as a signal to leave and be about on his work. 

Just then, a hand crawled on his lap which made him slightly jump in surprise. 

"Baby?" 

"Hm?" 

"You seem bothered." The hand began to move closer to his crotch as it rubbed his thigh gently. Francis let out a deep breath as he swiftly removed the woman's hand and placed them back on the table. 

"Oh, uh, nothing! Nothing's wrong." He smiled half heartedly, gently caressing her hand. 

"Well, what is it you want to tell me?" 

He leaned closer to her, wanting to make sure she would hear very clearly, and understand well what he was about to say. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment as he readied for the tears, the wailing, and the slap on his face. 

"Krishna, I know we've been through a lot lately and with the times you have not been seeing me, I came up with a decision." 

"And what was it?" 

"I, I want to-" 

"OH MY GOSH ARE YOU PROPOSING?" 

"Ye—WHAT? NO!" 

But his answer was completely ignored and the wails and tears supposed for sadness were now meant for overflowing joy. He mentally slapped his own face. Why did the situation became worse? Now what was he going to do? A double, major heartbreak would be a result if he eventually cleared up the misunderstanding. But hey, he wasn't planning on torturing himself for life; committed to a woman he didn't look at seriously in the first place! 

He needed time to think. And where else would be the best way for gathering thoughts and back up plans? 

"Uh, Krish?" 

"Yes honey!?" 

"I'll just go the washroom a bit. Okay?" 

"Aww, you got too excited didn't you? You need  _ help _ ?" 

"NO—uh, no. I can manage." 

"Okay honey! I'll be waiting! Don't take too long! Oh god I love you!" He was given a very hard and forced kiss before he walked away briskly. His hand grasped the strands of his hair the fell of his face. The tie on his hair slowly became loose. 

His mind was clouded with so much confusing thoughts. His plans were getting mixed up that he cannot come up with an effective one. With all these things running around his mind, he wasn't really looking at where he was walking. On his short trip to the washroom, he bumped a few people. Some were diners like him, some were staff. One actually almost dropped the glasses on the tray he was holding. 

When he reached the washroom, he cupped his hands and let the cold water from the tap fill the space in before he splashed it on his face. As he felt his hair tie loosen, he pulled it off completely and tossed it somewhere on the floor. He didn't care about it anymore. 

The sound of flowing water, his frustrated sighs, and the cubicle doors opening and closing when someone else would enter were the only things that filled the emptiness of the space between the tiled walls and yet, his mind would not process properly. He knew that he had to be getting back soon or else, that assuming woman might barge in there filled worry. 

He immediately gave up though, deciding to trust his brain to suddenly come up with anything that would save him on the spot. 

The French man opened the door with sweat palms that he had to grip the knob tighter and pull it with extra force that his elbow hit something he was sure was human due to the yelp he heard right after. 

He turned around to see who it was he accidentally hit and was slightly surprised at the sight of a man with blonde hair, lighter than his, crouching on the floor. Was he that strong? 

"Ah  _ monsieur!  _ Are you okay?" He crouched down in level with the other's face which he failed to see as the stranger was facing the floor, his bangs only concealed it more. 

"Yes, yes I'm alright sir." Was the soft reply, a hint of pain obvious in his voice. As he spoke, Francis took notice of the accent and identified it to be British. It wasn't that hard to know though, really. 

"Nope. You don't seem fine to me." He shook his head. 

"No, really sir. I'm fine. You can leave me be. I'll recover in a few." 

Of course it would not convince Francis. Not with what he was seeing. It was obvious that his elbow had struck the other with extra unnecessary strength and it caused pain. Hell, the possibility of it leaving a bruise even bothered him and filled him with guilt. 

Expecting nothing but denial about what the other blonde really felt, he decided to just help him stand up and planned to take a look (with no homosexual implications or whatsoever) on the part he hit. 

With an arm that supported the other's back and the other on the shoulder, he carefully tried to help the other stand which 

earned him a surprised gap. It seemed that the man was a bit sensitive on his back part (and just to clear things, when Francis though about  _ back part,  _ anything that went below the belt was surely not included). 

"There we go." He sighed as the other slightly whimpered. A hand covered half of his face, probably hiding his expression. 

"Thank you." The man spoke softly and with a shaky breath. 

"Well, would you mind if I uh, take a look? I just want to make sure you're alright, don't worry." 

The stranger took some time before he answered that it made Francis' mind think about any back up sentences to prove he was a very innocent guy and would not take advantage of someone in pain, and most of all, a guy in pain. Because, come on, why would he do that to a guy? 

It seemed that the stranger was able to realize the things he was just thinking about and nodded his head. His hand left his face to face Francis and... 

And, well, the situation kind of, changed. 

"F-frog?" 

Green orbs stared at the French man with shock and he was confidently his own face mirrored the expression. 

"Eyebrows?" 

Silence. 

More silence. 

A man entered, looked at them, was freaked out, and decided to leave. 

Silence. 

Again, more silence. 

"Fuck. On second thought," The other man began, "I'-I am completely fine and there's no need for checking. Ha! Haha!" He nervously laughed as he inched his way towards the door, the pain in his stomach was screaming yet fully ignored. 

"What? No, wait! Arthur!" Francis immediately pulled the other back and cornered him on the wall just behind the door. "It's, it's you  _ mon lapin! _ " 

"Wow yeah hey it's me wohoo now get the fuck out of my way!" Arthur tried to push the taller man in front of him but the other didn't even budge. "Francis what the hell?" 

"Oh come on, don't push me away. It has been years!" 

"Joyful frogless years and I would like to keep it that way. Now sod off you flirty amphibian." 

Arthur successfully went past through Francis but just as he was about to open the door to freedom, he was once again pulled back with force which made him gasp in pain. His stomach was on it again. 

"See? You're still in pain!" 

"Well who's fault was it?" 

"I am actually ready to take full responsibility with the thing on your stomach." 

"Don't talk like I'm some girl you accidentally got pregnant!" 

Francis laughed. "Well that actually sounded more convenient." 

"Fuck you to infinity—ow!" 

Arthur clutched on his stomach once again. The throbbing pain made his senses go dull that he had to crouch down once more. Francis clicked his tongue and helped him stand up once more to which Arthur didn't protest as he did not have the strength as much as he liked to. 

"I'll bring you to the nearest clinic." 

"What? No wa—ow damn." He winced once more when pain suddenly shot through his veins the moment he tried to push the taller blonde away. 

"Just shut up for a while  _ sourcils. _ " 

Arthur could only roll his eyes in annoyance. He doesn't have much of choice anyway. 

When they got out the washroom, Francis immediately called the attention of the nearest staff and handed him a paper to which Arthur identified to be a check. 

"I'm borrowing this guy for a while. Just put in how much he's paid. I already have my sign on it, okay?" He winked afterwards and smiled ever so  _ disgustingly,  _ well that was from Arthur's point of view obviously, at the waitress who shot the Brit a knowing look. 

It looked like there was going to be another batch of long explanations again. Just what was fate doing with his life? With all his face could do, he tried to tell her she was getting the wrong idea but the giggles obviously told him that she didn't get what he meant to tell her. With that, she skipped away with news about Arthur. All the Brit could do was groan and roll his eyes as he let Francis assist him. 

As for Francis, seeing Arthur again for the first time in years made him forget his major problem for the day. Just as they were about to reach the exit, his name was called by an all too familiar female voice which made him frozen on his tracks. 

"Honey~! What took you so long?" When he turned to face the direction of the voice, he was caught off guard to suddenly see her appear only a few feet away from them and was walking nearer. "Aww, who's this guy? Wow, those brows are-" 

"He's my friend and we need to leave now. Sorry." Francis said in a hurry that Arthur and the girl questioned him in unison. 

"Francis, are you currently on date? What the hell let me go!" 

"Gosh dear! What's the meaning of this? You're not planning on suddenly leaving me after you proposed right?" 

"Fuckin' frog! Let me go!" 

"Answer me darling!" 

It was all too much for the French man to take that he snapped after taking a deep breath. 

"YES! Yes Arthur I'm on a date if that's what you like to call it and yes Krishna I'm leaving you." 

The girl gaped and touched his cheeks. "B-but you can't leave me alone here on our engagement!" 

"Oh, about that. I'm sorry but you've got it all wrong dear. Uh, see, let's just talk about this some other time shall we? I really need to get going. Bye!" 

Francis suddenly carried Arthur in a princess like form which earned multiple shocked faces not only from the Brit and the woman, but as well from the other's in the place that the three hadn't noticed were carefully watching what they were up to. Much for Arthur's embarrassment. 

As he marched out with the petite Brit struggling on his arms, he let out a sigh of relief the moment his feet reached the outside. He ignored the curses that were thrown at him and the names he was being called by Arthur as he walked towards his car. 

He placed Arthur gently beside the driver's seat and insisted on him to be the one to put on the seatbelt. He was kind of in a hurry for the woman he left was surely going to chase them. Just after he comfortably seated himself and started his car, from the rear view mirror he could see her running towards them. As much as he liked to talk to her though, Arthur was his top priority as of now. 

With a heavy breath, he sped off. 

"You've broken yet another heart, Bonnefoy." That accent he had missed so much spat at him. "You shouldn't have done that." 

"Well, I've got no other choice." 

"Hah! You do have a choice and that was to leave me be." 

Francis looked at the scowling man beside him. Oh god, since when did he see that scowl? 

"Nope! I'm not doing that, and you know it." From the corner of his eyes, he saw Arthur roll his own green ones. "I just can't let you slip away again, okay?" He teased, knowing how his flirtatious tone disturbed his friend. 

"You sound so gay, stop it. It's creeping me out." Francis laughed. "I'm serious here! Goodness I can feel it. I'm so close to ripping your head off." 

"It would be an honor." 

"Fuck you." Another laugh which added to Arthur's irritation. 

"You didn't change. That's good." 

Arthur looked at Francis with a frown. He wanted to say something but then decided against it. Instead, he let out a shaky breath and looked out the mirror. 

"Where in the earth are you taking me?" 

"Hm? I told you I'm bringing you to the nearest clinic," Francis smirked. "Unless you want me to bring you somewhere else?" 

Arthur looked at him from the corner of his eye. It was a fact that Francis didn't change as well and was kind of relieved to know that. Though of course he wouldn't admit it. 

It wasn't that he hated Francis oh so very much. In fact, he was fond of him. 

Again he wasn't going to admit that. 

There many things that the both of them went through, for they have known each other for a very long time. Who knows? Maybe even longer than- let's not go that way. 

Arthur bit his lip as he returned his gaze outside, deciding to let Francis have his way for now. It was just this one time anyway. They might not see each other again for a very long time so what was there to lose? 

He closed his eyes and with full conviction he said, 

"I hate you from the bottom of my heart if ever I have one." 

" _ I'm a hundred percent sure you do have one mon cheri..."  _

Of course, those words only ran inside Francis' mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I give you guys the liberty to strangle me for updating very very late.   
> Sorrrry! News Writing is taking soo much of my time! D:   
> Anyway, feel free to point out any mistakes! Suggestions and violent reactions are very much welcome!   
> Oh, Sneak Peek!   
> "No, no, no, NO! There's absolutely no way I got turned on by that! NO!"   
> Thanks for reading!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALIVE! :D

_ His eyes rivaled the green of the meadow with the grass freshly kissed by the morning dew. The sun's rays touched everything it could and the warmth it brought complimented the cool breeze. Flower petals danced with every blow of the wind together with the butterflies that displayed unique patterns on their wings. The sky was a clear blue, a colour which somehow reminded him of a certain something or perhaps a someone he quite had forgotten. He decided not to focus much on it.  _

_ Arthur felt at peace. It had been a long while since he felt like this. Surrounded by green and blue, away from the grey buildings and blinding lights of the city. The air was fresh, far from the smoke urban places offered. He smiled and began to walk with no particular destination. He didn't even know why he was there but he rather not question at the moment.  _

_ His feet suddenly came to a stop as something hopped in front of him. He looked down at the creature which only stared back with its very round eyes. The wind blew and petals came flying again, and the small, green, animal croaked loud enough for Arthur's ears to hear. Its stomach became larger as the sound was produced and immediately returned back to normal. The Brit blinked a few times and let his head fall to one side as he continued to stare at the oddity of the creature in front of him.  _

_ Since when did frogs have hair?  _

_ And to make it weirder, it was long enough to touch the ground and was blonde.  _

_ A large brow perked up as he crouched down to take a closer look. The frog continued to stare back and as the human's face became nearer and clearer to its vision, it croaked twice.  _

_ He wanted to touch it, but something inside of him strongly disagreed to that idea and so he contented himself with staring as he tried to solve the questions in his own head at the oddity of the amphibian. The frog croaked once again as if it wanted to gain something from the human. As the noise became louder and the minute intervals went down to zero, the Brit then became annoyed.  _

" _ How annoying..."  _

_ With a sigh, he stood up and walked past the frog. Still he was curious about its odd appearance, but he knew better than look like an idiot and wait for a miracle to happen. A suddenly talking frog for example.  _

" _ Arthur!"  _

_ He stopped. Did he just hear someone call his name? But, there was no one except for him and well, the—  _

_ God knows he was not serious about the idea of a talking frog. He swallowed and scratched his head. Did he dare turn his back?  _

_ Without even answering his own question, it was late when he decided not to.  _

_ The frog was already looking at him when he laid his eyes on the blonde animal. The way it stared at him was creepy and made him uncomfortable. He bit his cheek and waited for the frog with the blonde hair to speak his name even if he believed it to be stupid.  _

" _ Arthur!"  _

_ His jaw dropped and his eyes went bigger than the sun up in the sky.  _

" _ Arthur! Arthur! Arthur!"  _

_ He clearly was neither hearing nor seeing things as he heard his name come out from the frog's slimy mouth. His face twisted into that of disgust and fear. He took a step back, and another, and another. Though with each step he took, the frog equalled it with a hop or two in what seemed as an attempt in closing the gap.  _

" _ Arthur! Art-"  _

" _ AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH"  _

_ He decided to run.  _

_ His feet burned but he didn't care. The chants of his name got louder and for some reason he heard multiple croaks and voices that called out to him. He decided to look behind him and what he saw made him scream louder.  _

_ There were more than a hundred frogs that were chasing him, all looked the same, with blonde hair though some were tied, and some were just let out loose to flow with the wind. Arthur knew that with his pace, the frogs would be able to catch up to him. His legs moved faster without any rhythm. The horizon seemed unending and very open that there weren't anything he could go to hide, and there were no trees to climb up to. And to add more to his misery, he accidentally tripped on a rock which was a very cliché thing to happen when someone was being chased.  _

_ He tumbled down face first and was unable to move for a few seconds. He winced in pain and tried to get up with his arms first. He was on all fours and was struggling to keep his balance. When he raised his head, his breath caught up in his throat for merely a few centimetres away from his eyes was a single frog.  _

" _ Arthur!"  _

_ He jumped back and landed on his bum with a squeak.  _

" _ Arthur!"  _

_ He heard again and this time it came from above him. He felt the strands of his hair move as a frog settled on top him. More and more voices came from behind him and he froze. His eyes became watery as frogs hopped all over him.  _

" _ Arthur! Arthur! Arthur! Arthur!"  _

" _ Arthur!"  _

" _ Arthur! *croak* Arthur!"  _

_ He prayed for someone to make them stop and oh boy did he pray hard.  _

_ Make them stop make them stop someone bloody fucking make them stop!  _

_ Shut up! Shut up and don't touch me!  _

_ Shut up!  _

"SHUT UP! _ "  _

"Arthur!" 

"NO! GET AWAY FROM ME!" 

"Arthur wake up!" 

"NO!" 

Francis felt like a nurse at a mental facility as he tried to stop Arthur from sparing with an unknown enemy. What could be going on inside the Brit's dream for him to suddenly give out free punches in the air? 

"FROG!" Arthur yelled the answer to his question right before Francis was greeted with a clenched fist on his cheek. 

His tongue slipped French curses as he held on to the aching part for dear life. It stung and he didn't like it. He was never a fan of pain, ever and one good supporting fact for that was, despite having ventured the different corners of Porn sites, he never dared watch anything with BDSM related tags like—okay, we got a little of track here. Anyway, the bottom-line was he hated pain more than anything may it be physically or emotionally. 

"Francis?" He heard Arthur's voice with a hint of confusion in it. He turned slightly and saw the other's green eyes wander around the brightly lit room. "Where are we?" He questioned. 

The room was spacious with only the queen sized bed and a single built in cabinet on its carpeted floor. The walls were cream in colour and a single painting of the Eiffel Tower was hung near the door. Beside the bed was a table with a digital clock on it that flashed its number in red light.  _ 14:08  _ it said. He turned to look at Francis' side and saw Dark red and white curtains drawn over what he suspected to be a big glass window. 

And then he looked at Francis himself who seemed to be waiting for another question before he finally would answer them. The Brit's brows met as he sighed. "Where did you bring me? Because I am not stupid enough to know this is not a hospital bed! Bloody hell I thought you were going to take me to the nearest c—." 

"Yeah, this is not a clinic I admit but see, when I saw you sleeping I-" 

"You brought me here just as what your perverted instincts told you to do." 

"If that's what you want to believe, fine. But honestly speaking, I just found your sleeping face cute and it would be heartbreaking to wake you up so I brought you home instead. Besides, it doesn't seem like you still needed to be brought to the doctor." Francis chuckled before he stood up right on time to dodge an attack from Arthur. "Ooh, feisty, I like that." The Brit only rolled his eyes. "Are you hungry? I'll prepare something 'kay?" 

Arthur's eyes followed Francis as he walked towards the door and noticed his left hand covering his left cheek. The hand was there their whole conversation and never did Francis put it down. Was he hiding something? Of course he was, but what? He knew Francis, and he knew how much he was proud of the precious face, so why cover half of it? Perhaps there was something hideous behind his hand? 

"Hey, what's that you're hiding in your face?" He asked, straight as ever. Francis stopped and turned around, his right hand ready to twist the doorknob. 

"Oh, nothing. Just a toothache." He lied. With the way Arthur looked back though, he knew he did not buy it. Even when he smiled, the frown on the other's face only deepened. 

The Brit stood up quickly and walked towards Francis until he was face to face with him. There he noticed how their height difference never changed and it kind of pissed him off. Francis on the other hand was amused. 

"Seriously  _ Môn lapin,  _ it's nothing." Francis smiled but of course, Arthur was not convinced, but he did not say anything. He only crossed his arms and stepped forward, their noses almost touching. At this point, Francis' breath hitched and he remembered what exactly took his breath away years ago when he first fell in love with Arthur. 

_ First fell in love.  _ What did it mean by  _ first?  _ The reason was simple: every single day, he fell for him over and over and over again. The years they had been apart, Francis clung to memories and despite being only inside his head, he knew how honest his heart's fast beating was every time tried to picture Arthur. 

"God, where did you get this?" His voice snapped Francis back to reality and it was too late when he noticed his hand already fell back to his side which left his cheek exposed. He left the question hanging and focused on how close the other was. 

There were really things that did not change even with the years that had gone. The concern, the kindness, the look, the smell of tea and roses, his soft skin that was now gently touching his cheek. He slightly winced at the pain and Arthur quickly withdrew his hand and apologized in whisper. 

"Good news for you frog, it's not that big." Arthur stepped back, much Francis' disappointment. "Where in hell did you get that anyway?" 

"Let that be my little secret." Francis winked returned the scowl with his smile. 

"Whatever, I assume you have ice?" The smaller blonde turned the knob and walked out the door without even bothering to hear an answer to his question. 

The apartment was grand yet simple. The walls had the same cream color like the French man's room and also had a few paintings. There was a big sliding glass door where the sun's rays entered to brighten up the living room. A black L shaped couch surrounded the centre table with a vase of Lilacs on top. 

"I have a  _ private  _ room for watching TV." 

"I  _ wasn't  _ asking." 

The kitchen was only a few steps away from the living room. It was neither too big nor too small. In the middle was an island with a basket of citrus and beside it was another vase filled with fresh marigolds. 

The moment he set foot on the tiled floors, Arthur quickly made his way through the cupboards in search for an ice bag. When he found what he was looking for, he quickly filled it with ice from the fridge and commanded Francis to sit down on one of the tall rotating chairs by the centre island. 

"Hold still. It's not going to hurt anyway." Francis only nodded his head and as much as he wanted to believe Arthur, he knew it would hurt. 

He closed his eyes that moment the ice bad touched his face. It did hurt, only a little though and it surprised him how gently Arthur was being at the moment. With the one hand busy holding the ice bad, the other held his face and it felt great. He felt the warmth and softness of the other's skin. Again, he remembered the many reasons he loved the Brit. And so he closed his eyes now for a very different reason. It was not to try imagining the pain going away, but to cherish every second that passed with Arthur finally, finally, beside him and touching his face. 

"You're surprisingly gentle to me for once." Francis opened his eyes and looked at Arthur who momentarily stopped just to press harder on his bruise for a second. "Ow!" 

"You were saying?" The smaller blonde smiled and continued on his work and Francis couldn't help but smile as well. 

He sat quietly while Arthur treated him. His smile never left his face. Francis was aware of how his heart seemed to be jumping at the moment as it was being honest at how he truly was feeling. Undeniably of course, he was happy that after a very long time he was reunited with his friend and first love. 

Francis thought of it as the work of fate and destiny. Honestly, he really didn't try exert an effort in finding Arthur because if did, then they didn't have to be apart from each other for years. 

Deep in his heart, he regretted doing nothing. He was young and stupid back then to realize what he was going to lose. He thought he was not worth the shot; he was not worth the effort. No one could blame him though, because he knew more than anyone that Arthur never had and never will have a thing for people with the same gender. 

So he decided to forget him and that was the worst decision he ever made. He thought he could erase every memory, but his reminded the times they were together and it left him with numerous sleepless nights. He had been through many relationships and slept with countless men and women, yet at the end of the day there was only person he longed for and regret would wash all over him. 

Even then, he never tried to look for him because he was afraid. What if Arthur was already married? Had kids? Had grandchildren even? He would just add to his regret that he had done nothing. 

But now, fate and destiny had brought them together once more and to add up to the good part, he received news that Arthur was  _ gay.  _ But every good news had a catch; Arthur was not single. But Francis decided that he didn't care. He'd deal with that later on. 

Because right now, he was simply happy. For every second that passed, he realized how much he missed him more than he thought he did. 

"I missed you." He was ignored completely so he repeated his words. "I missed you, Arthur." 

Arthur's hands stopped and then he glared at him. "I don't care." He said before he turned around and walked towards to sink. 

Francis had to stop himself from pulling Arthur back to him. 

The wall clock that rested on top of the television stared right back at the bored American who was currently lying on Arthur's precious sofa. 

"Peter, I'm bored!" He exclaimed and threw a pillow at the younger blonde who was lying on the carpet on his stomach. 

"We just finished a game Alfred! Aren't you tired?" 

"I'm never tired when it comes to games y'know." 

"Shouldn't have asked." Peter rolled his eyes which reminded Alfred of Arthur. 

The clock read 3:30 and Arthur won't be home for the next few hours. He stretched his arms and frowned. Why was time taking its time? He scratched his head, yawned, stretched his legs, yawned, and tossed and turned on the sofa. Then he sat up and threw another pillow at Peter who was then close to falling asleep. 

"What the hell? What was that for?" 

"Can't reach ya' so I threw a pillow." 

"Bloody hell. What do you want? Don't tell me you just felt like throwing it on me you pig." 

Alfred wanted to protest about being called a pig but he was amazingly too lazy for that. He flopped back on the couch and played with the single remaining pillow in his arms. 

"Tell me about Arthur." He didn't know why he said that. 

"Brother? Why?" 

"Just curious." 

"About brother?" 

"Yeah." 

Peter rose with his elbow and looked at Alfred to see if the older blonde was serious. The look on Alfred's face wasn't really convincing though but he agreed nonetheless just to pass the time. He lay down once again and stared at the TV screen. 

"What exactly do you want to hear about him?" 

Alfred closed his eyes as he thought of what to ask. He realized then how much he knew nothing about Arthur. He almost knew nothing except that Arthur was kind, and gentle, and understanding, and— 

He shook his head. Why did he think of him like that? Wasn't Arthur an arrogant British man with a stick up his ass? He mentally laughed at the thought of him with  _ literally something up his hole _ . 

_ That his hands were tied behind him.  _

_ His eyes were covered by a blindfold.  _

_ His legs were forcedly spread by a chain that pulled them apart.  _

_ His skin glistened with sweat under the dim light.  _

_ And up his ass was his—  _

"Shit!" Alfred's eyes opened wide as he threw himself up. His palms were sweaty as he panted and tried to comprehend what just happened. Did he just imagine Arthur naked? And was that him that was with the Brit? And did his pants just get tighter? "Shit!" He cursed loudly that it caught Peter's attention. 

"What's wrong with you?" The younger of the two asked but was ignored. 

_ Oh god why? Did I just get turned on by that?  _

_ For real? Seriously?  _

_ What the fuck man, this shit ain't funny!  _

He closed his eyes once more to calm himself but in an instant, his mind flashed another image of Arthur naked on bed. 

"Damn it!" He shouted and without even glancing at Peter who had his brow raised on him, he fled for the bathroom. 

Nope, he was not going to have his sweet release. He was just there to calm himself, wash his face with cold water, and try to stay in the real world. Because in the real world, he was not attracted to Arthur and he was not turned on by the sight of the Brit. 

That thing underneath his pants though seemed to say otherwise. 

"It's just cold." He whispered to himself. "It's almost December anyway so it's cold. It's always cold in America. So it's like  _ that. _ " 

He let out slow and heavy breaths as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. Tiny droplets crawled all the way down from his flushed cheeks to his chin. His chest rose slowly and his shoulders were now relaxed. He tried to focus on himself and chanted inside his mind,  _ I'm a chick magnet, not a dick magnet. I like boobs. I am a playboy. I am Alfred. The  _ _ hottest American. Arthur is just my friend."  _ Right? _ "  _

His thoughts were disturbed by loud knocks on the door accompanied by Peter's irritated and curious voice. With one last deep breath, he opened the door and smiled. 

"Hey." 

"Do not 'hey' me. What the hell happened to you?" 

"Oh uh, just felt like throwing up but I didn't so yippee!" He scratched his head and forced himself to laugh but Peter only stared at him with a blank expression. 

"Right. Whatever." The younger blonde rolled his eyes as he turned his back on him and walked away. Much to his relief, he bit his lip and leaned at the closed door of the bathroom, again, he chanted. 

_ I am Alfred Fucking Jones and I am not gay. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another very late update HAHA kill me.   
> Again, no promises I'll be updating this soon. Sorry. But thanks for reading and supporting! I love you guys. C:   
> Till' the next chappie!   
> (Please keep all violent reactions to yourself while I'm temporarily gone unless it cannot be contained. *wink*)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let it go! Let it go!

Alfred and Peter waited for another hour before the younger's eyes gave up and finally they shut as he lay on top of their pillows on the carpeted floor. On the couch was the American who seemed not to notice that his companion already drifted off somewhere in his own dreamland and left him all alone to ponder over things in silence. He stared at the clock and furrowed his brows as he wondered why Arthur still was not home at a quarter past nine.  _ Where could he be?  _ He mumbled. 

He thought about the possible reasons as to why the Brit was still not home and as he went through every reason he could think of, he found himself feeling uncomfortable with the feeling of worry and concern. 

_ What could he he be doing? Was there suddenly a need for a graveyard shift? Maybe he went drinking with his friends? Who is with him right now? What if he gets drunk? How would he go home? What if— _ It was then that he realized he was thinking too much about Arthur and it made his whole body and mind freeze at this realization. 

He was doing it again, thinking, and what more he was thinking about that certain British man that just violated his mind just hours ago by appearing nude. He felt mentally raped and at the same time, he felt as if it wasn't mind rape at all because as much as he wanted to think bad of it he cannot deny the fact that he liked it in some way. 

He let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes as he repeated the same words he had been chanting for a while.  _ I am not gay, I am not gay, I am not gay _ . He repeated the words until he felt is heart beat calm down. 

It wasn't long after that when the sound of the doorbell echoed on the walls. Right away, his body jumped up and he found himself rushing towards the door. He almost even tripped a few times on the consoles, wires, and the sleeping Peter. The door flew open and Alfred found it hard to contain himself when he saw Arthur on the other side, standing with his hands inside his coat pockets. A knitted scarf around his neck. It was indeed a cold night, though Alfred did not remember the other was wearing the scarf that morning. But he did not even try to think more about it. The moment he opened the door and saw Arthur, he shouted his name that caught the Brit by surprise. 

"Why the bloody hell are you shouting? I'm not even- hey, your cheeks are red. Are you alright?" 

Alfred had this urge to throw himself towards the shorter blonde but he was able to stop his legs from gettng ahead of his brain. Arthur's words got him thinking. He touched his cheeks and they indeed felt hot. 

"Uhm, because it's cold?" Hell no, it wasn't because of that. Arthur looked convinced, he was thankful. But then Alfred realized that there was no way Arthur would doubt him when the Brit actually felt cold himself. Realization struck him and immediately he barked at Arthur to go inside and warm himself up, even volunteering to make a cup of hot chocolate for the Brit which earned him an almost inaudible ' _ Wow' _ . It slightly surprised Arthur but he was not in the mood to tease Alfred. 

"So, how's your day?" He asked, even if he wanted to ask him many things. He was just more than relieved that Arthur was now near him. 

"I'm tired. How's Peter?" 

"Fun as always! Awesome like me!" 

Alfred placed the cup in front of Arthur who had his chin resting on his crossed arms on the table. He sat beside him with his own share of hot chocolate with marshmallows. Arthur stared at the rising steam from his drink and yawned ungracefully which did not escape the American's eyes and caused him to grin before taking a sip. 

"What did you do the whole day?" The Brit straightened up and clutched the warm cup to bring heat on his hands. 

"The usual. Play games, talk about stuff, sleep, talk." 

"Hmm." Arthur took a sip and let the sweetness of his drink linger for a moment on his tongue before letting it slide down. "Talked about stupid things? 

"Well if you consider yourself stupid, then I guess I agree with that." 

"You talked about me?" 

"Uuhh..." Arthur raised an amused brow (Yes, brows can be amused too) as Alfred scratched his head with a chuckle. "Just a little, I guess." 

"Like?" 

He bit his lips and scratched his chin. Why was everything so itchy all of a sudden? When he looked at Arthur, his green eyes looked so tired yet thankful as he stared down on his cup while he waited for an answer. 

"Like, your favorite color?" He lied though he always did wonder about it. 

"And?" 

"We agreed on green." He really thought it was green. 

"Why?" Alfred shrugged his shoulders, looked at Arthur's eyes then abruptly he turned his head away and drank a mouthful of sweetness to calm his nerves. 

"Well, your eyes are green," He breathed out, and in a whisper he added, " _ And they're beautiful."  _

"They are?" Unfortunately, Arthur heard. 

Alfred shifted on his seat and slowly he let his eyes draw back at Arthur. The Brit's lids were slightly dropping, his head rested on his crossed arms on the table with the cup just inches beside his disheveled, sandy hair. He thought, Arthur was probably out of it already. He was sleepy, he might not be thinking so straight anymore to just let the topic flow like it was nothing. He was expecting some teasing but there was none. 

With a nervous smile, he nodded his head. 

Or maybe he shouldn't have nodded because Arthur now was grinning. 

"Nice move." 

"Nice move?" 

"Is that how you hit on girls?" 

"What?" For some reason, he felt hurt. "I was not—" 

"But thank you." The way Arthur smiled caught him off guard. 

Alfred wasn't really sure what to do anymore, nor what to say in the current situation. With Arthur smiling at him, as genuine as what he saw earlier that day, he did not know how to properly react. 

"Thanks for what?" He reluctantly asked just for the sake of saving them, or rather him, from an awkward and homo situation. 

"For that. Nobody's told me that." Arthur chuckled as he stood up and stretch his arms. Alfred was just confused, partly embarrassed, and unknowingly falling in... something he cannot explain just yet. "So I'll take that as a compliment. It's nice to be said nice things every once in a while." 

"Oh." 

Arthur smiled and gathered both their cups. "Anyway, fun fact?" He looked up at him. "It's blue." 

Boy, was his heart jumping or what? 

As Arthur had his back turned against him, his ears were steaming and he just had to hide his face in his arms as he surrendered himself on the table. What was that smile? What were those words? What was that effect? He took a peek and saw Arthur cleaning the cups, the sound of rushing water calmed his nerves slightly but it didn't stop his heart from leaping. 

He cleared his throat and sat up, his eyes bore into Arthur's back while he replayed the conversation in his mind. 

He decided not to think about it too much. In the end, he came up with the mental scoring book where he was leading in points. 

_ Kirkland- 0, Jones- 5!  _

He cheered in punched the air, just in time when Arthur turned around and gave him the 'You're weird' look. He simply smiled and waved, and Arthur shook his head. As he watched him walking to and fro from the cupboards and the sink, he figured something. 

It was nice making somebody smile. 

It felt nice to be the reason for  _ his  _ smile. 

Francis barely slept that night with the thoughts of a certain Brit running through his head through the hours. So when he arrived at his clinic and saw Ashley's face first thing in the morning of his work, his head throbbed and he braced himself for what was to come. 

"Why are you here? We're done with all your sessions." 

Ashley sat down and crossed her legs. He glared at Francis for seconds then smiled. It was creepy. 

"I believe you have something to tell me." 

"Tell you? Why? Did your boobs get deformed again?" He wanted to laugh, he was just not in the mood. 

"No, they're not. Good job." She giggled. "I came here for an entirely different reason." 

He looked at her, confused. What was she saying? Did she want another enhancement? As much as she was bringing such good income for his work, he didn't want to perform anything on her anymore. Adding thrice the amount of silicon would make her look like a shop lifter. 

"What is then?" He asked without looking at her as he scribbled notes on his planner. 

"Well, just wanna ask something." She smiled and leaned forward on his desk that it bothered him. In a low and amused voice, she spoke, "How are you related with Kirkland?" 

"Oh. " Francis dropped his pen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter! I promise that the next would be longer. .   
> Sneak:   
> "I love him! What do I need to do just to prove that?" - Alfred   
> Yuuh. Thanks for the support! Open to suggestions!   
> Let the storm rage OOOOON


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want my own Night Fury! :D

"How are you related with Kirkland?" 

"Oh." Francis' pen slipped from his fingers and rolled down to desk to the floor. He stared at the paper for a moment before smiling innocently and turned to look at Ashley. "Whatever do you mean mada—" 

"Don't play dumb with me, French horse." His forehead wrinkled, obviously not happy with what she called him. "I saw you yesterday." Ashley crossed her arms. 

"And?" 

"And you were with Kirkland. You see, I was at the same place where that British gay man's working. I was spying on him for a while now." She smiled and leaned forward the desk. "Then I saw you but decided not to approach you since you have a date. I don't wanna be involved in some worthless bitch fight." 

"Well you could've won if ever." Francis chuckled but she only glared at him. 

"As I was saying, I saw you leave that woman, head for the restroom where Kirkland went in, and then poof you were talking, the next minute you were dragging him outside and vroom went your car." 

The French man nodded his head as he leaned back and relaxed on his rotating chair. A serious look now on his face which made Ashley's smile grow wider. 

"Now Mr. Bonnefoy, I'd like to ask you some questions and you are required to answer." 

"I'm not entertaining any questions. My private life is not related to yours and it will never be." 

"I disagree. We were meant to cross each other's path and become part of each other's journey towards achieving our  _ goals. _ " 

Francis shook his head and glared at her but she didn't seem to mind. Rather, she looked like she had in her hands a sure win. 

"First question, are you gay." 

"I told you I'm not—" 

"So, you are." Francis glared at her, the he stood up and was about to march his way out of the door when Ashley blocked his way with an annoying grin. "I'm just taking a guess but, do you happen to like that Kirkland guy?" 

"No." 

"Liar. I saw the way you looked at him. It's the kind of look that says ' _ you're not going anywhere anymore'.  _ It may be just for a quick moment but I'm an expert when it comes to that. Aren't you too?" 

He knew where the conversation was going, and he had to get away to hear nothing of it. But Ashley was persistent as hell and refused to step aside. She wouldn't budge and the determination in her eyes was bursting to flames. 

"You like Arthur don't you? No use denying it." She looked at him with a evil grin when he didn't answer. "You're not a stupid man, Francis. So I think you already understand my point in this conversation. Just look at the wonderful possibilities we could have in the future. You get your guy, I get mine and have our own versions of happily ever after." She stretched out her hand to initiate a handshake. "So, partners?" Her mischievous look was replaced with an unbelievable innocent face. For seconds, her hand hung in mid-air with the French man doing nothing, completely ignoring the friendly gesture. 

"You're pathetic." Francis sighed. He crossed his arms. 

"So are you." 

"I'm not." He smiled and shook his head confidently. 

Because he knew something Ashley didn't know. He was told something and he would never tell her what it was. Because Arthur told him everything, and it meant he trusted him, that was enough. Unlike her, he had a chance to win. He was not disliked. There was no threat. He may be chasing after him, but at least he knew that he was not being desperate in trying to steal someone from somebody else. Even if we say that, Arthur and Alfred's relationship was real, he didn't think he'd let himself loose and destroy something so precious, because he didn't want to hurt Arthur. Not him, of all people. 

He was not pathetic. 

"You're going to regret this." She spoke in a dangerous yet unsure tone as her hand gripped his arm when he walked passed by her. "You just don't realize how desperate you will be,  _ yet _ ." 

"Trust me on this one, sweetheart." He shrugged and pulled his arm off from the tight grip. "I will not step down to your level." 

"But you already did!" She squeaked and laughed. She let herself fall down the chair in front of the desk. She smirked. "You're not even doing anything to stop me. I'm forming a plan on ruining their relationship and you're doing nothing. You are coward, much worse than me. Because the truth is you wanted Alfred gone from Arthur's life, and you're simply making me do all the dirty work so in the end, you come in clean. Isn't that right?" 

Francis frowned, looking disappointed and somewhat sympathizing her for something which she didn't know. 

"I'm sorry, but I think you've got it all wrong." He said in a smooth voice. It was his turn to smirk at Ashley's disbelieving face. 

"What do you mean?" 

"Why would I tell you?" He chuckled and pivoted away and left her while her jaw hung in disbelief. Her violet eyes bore at his back until he vanished on the other side of the door as it slammed shut with a loud bang. 

Her cheeks felt hot out of anger and a little bit of embarrassment. Her confidence was overflowing since she saw them together. That was a one of a kind, high class information that can be her ultimate weapon. He was expecting Francis to cooperate because she was so sure that the French man had something for the British waiter. 

She bit her cheeks and crossed her legs. After moments of contemplating things, her lips wore a smile she wasn't supposed to have. 

Ashley thought about not rushing things. Maybe Francis was still excited and hopeful just as she was the first time he got to meet Alfred. And she was entirely confident that like her, Francis would soon be realizing how desperate he would be and eventually, he would be crawling back to her and offer her a partnership she was more than willing to accept. 

Francis blew off the smoke through his lips as he drove through the city without a destination. His left arm rested on the open window as he balanced the cigarette in between his two fingers outside his car. His heart still pounded and he wasn't sure if it was because of shock or fear. As Ashley's words continued to play in his brain, the more he felt so unsure of himself and his future with Arthur. 

He clicked his tongue in frustration which was followed by his foot pressing on the gas with a little more force. He needed to take his minds away from certain things in a while. Maybe he'd go back to his apartment and chill there for the rest of the day? Then maybe a bottle of wine would help and some funny American T.V. shows? 

He drove to the first liquor store he spotted and quickly got off his car. He pushed the door open and the staff behind the cashier greeted him with a bright smile which pissed him off more. Why were people smiling brightly in front of him when he was in a bad mood? 

His feet tapped against the wooden floors as he walked past bottles of vodkas. The rows of wines went all the way at the back of the store which was something that made him frown all the more. It was like the smallest things irritated him. 

He scanned through the bottles which were ordered from the cheapest to the most expensive. At first he thought about hoarding those with the lowest price but then he decided against it. It was better to have a least two bottles of very fine wine than tens of those that might make him return and burn the whole store. 

In his palms was a bottle each. He was satisfied with his choice but still he can't manage those lips of his to curve up. He didn't dare think about it anyway. 

As he walked past the same way he took, an avalanche of canned beers from the fridge blocked his way. He abruptly stopped on his tracks and stared menacingly at the blonde man with wide blue eyes who sat on the floor and seemed to enjoy the cold that the cans brought to skin. He had them cradled in his arms though it was obvious that he had so much more than what he intended to have. 

He sighed and spun on his heels to go the other way where the path held no human obstacle, but just then he heard the man, he knew for sure was American, call his attention. He wanted to ignore him but the blonde's voice was so cheerful, so lively, and so annoying that he had no choice but to turn around. 

"Dude, why'd you ignore me?" 

"Am I supposed not to?" 

"Well duh? I'm like, stranded here." The man rolled his eyes which reminded Francis of Arthur. For the first time in that day, he had the urge to smile. It was just that the man in front of him was really getting in his nerves. 

"Oh come one. Look how buff you are." 

"My god, are you checking me out?" 

"Dream on." 

"You're a rude European." Francis glared at the stranger. 

"Well then, I'll make the most out of being rude. Goodbye." 

"Hey! Wait! Come on you've gotta help me!" 

Francis halted once more and turned his head to look at the poor guy. He tried to bring out even the slightest feel of good will but there wasn't just any. 

"You really aren't gonna help me are ya'?" 

"That should be obvious." 

"Do you believe in karma?" 

"No." Before he knew it, there was a flying can of beer headed towards his face and he barely dodge it. His cheek made contact with the can before it tumbled below him, rolling to and fro beside his foot. He glared at the other in anger but the American didn't seem to mind it. Rather, he looked satisfied wasn't sorry for what he did. "So, do you believe now?" 

"That wasn't even a product of karma you son of a—" 

"Wooah. If I were you, I wouldn't say bad words. Karma's just around the corner." 

Francis groaned and with a determined face, he turned around quickly with heavy, angry steps. He did not say a word anymore, he did not care. All he wanted was to finally be at peace in his home with the curtains drawn and only the television to light the place. His wine his only companion. He could still hear the idiot's voice as he paid at the counter. 

"Hey miss, you have a stupid customer at the beer section back there." He pointed at the direction without looking. 

"I heard that!" The staff looked surprised as soon as there was an answer to Francis claim. She nodded her head, and immediately went to tend to the person he was talking about as soon as she gave him his purchase. 

He went out the store and drove home with scowl. 

Arthur mindlessly switched from channel to channel. It was an hour before noon and there weren't any good shows yet until 4pm. He was expecting Alfred to come by just as promised by him the night before since Peter was at school and he called in sick. 

Well, he did feel sick. He felt like he had been deprived of sleep for days. He felt so tired for some reason. Maybe the stress was finally getting to him? As for mysteriously allowing Alfred to come over despite his condition, the American reasoned he had to discuss their new 'battle plan' which meant that was about their 'secret mission', which Arthur much more likely preferred to call work. 

With another yawn, he switched the channel. 

Minutes later, his door was showered with multiple, loud knocks that he knew too well. With a grunt, he pushed himself up and walked slowly towards the door to let the American in. Right when he pulled the knob, Alfred's loud voice bounced off the walls of his home. Not like it was the first time he was greeted with a shout, but that time, Alfred looked frustrated and annoyed. 

"What the hell happened to you?" He asked as the taller blonde marched right into his kitchen, dropped the plastic bag full of beers on the counter, and sat like a brat on one of the chairs. 

"Gosh, you wouldn't believe what happened to me earlier!" Arthur raised a brow as he sat beside him. "I was attacked by these can of beers!" 

"Okay." 

"And then there was this dude that just—" Alfred made a few growling noises as he twisted his shirt in irritation. Arthur watched his as he yawned, obviously not interested with whatever Alfred was ranting about. 

"Okay. So why are you here again?" He asked, just to get some things started. The sooner they began, the sooner they would finish and he could get back to sleep. 

Alfred's eyes brightened as if he remembered something very important. Arthur would've bet that the other completely forgot he was there for business purposes. The American took out a neatly folded piece of paper from his jeans' pocket and spread it out for Arthur to read. After scanning the contents of the paper, the Brit's reaction began to turn sour. 

"This is so—" 

"Amazing? Inspiring? Heart warming?" 

"Disgusting." 

"What the fuck man? I spent like, the whole night writing that!" 

Alfred snatched the paper away from his hands with a look of hurt. He rolled his eyes and crossed his legs, surely he was not so delighted by what he just read. 

"What exactly are you planning?" He asked in a flat tone. 

"Well you see, we look so perfect together!" Alfred squeaked. When Arthur turned to look at him straight in the eyes as if demanding an explanation, he knew he chose a weird set of words. He began to feel embarrassed himself but tried to cover it with by clearing his throat. "What I mean is," Alfred breathed in. "We look and act like the perfect couple. No problems, no worries, no fights!" 

"Are you quite sure about the last one?" He asked but Alfred ignored him. 

"So now we need a little bit of drama!" 

"And  _ that  _ is necessary because?" 

"Because we're doing a  _ live  _ presentation of this one!" The American cheered, obviously excited and proud of his plan. Arthur however, completely disagreed with it. 

"Are you bloody serious? We are going to act this in front of?" 

"My parents!" 

"Bollocks!" He almost flipped the table. 

"It's not gonna be that bad you know! You haven't even heard the rest of the plan!" He glared at Alfred who only gave him a cheeky smile. He rolled his eyes again and pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt like he was going to have a headache. Without saying anything, he nodded his head which was a sign for Alfred to continue explaining things to him. 

"So it's gonna be like this." Alfred brought a pencil out from his pocket and began to scribble at the other side of the paper. "You see, my mom has this shopping ritual which happens every other week. Of course, my dad's gonna be there too even if he didn't want to come. At that time, we will be in a café near my mom's favorite outlet  _ by coincidence  _ and the moment they pass by us, BOOM! We'll let them hear us 'fighting'." Alfred gestured quotation marks in the air. 

He admitted it wasn't a very dumb plan but it needed serious acting skills as to not to be obvious. To be honest, he thought it would be easy since it became an everyday routine already for him to shout at other because of his stupidity. The script however, he had some questions about it. 

"The sentences in the red ink are my lines?" 

"Got that right!" 

"No way. I demand a switch!" 

"What?" 

"Or else I am out of it!" 

Alfred stared at a grinning Arthur and at the paper in his hands. His eyes travelled between the two. Arthur seemed serious about it, at the same time he felt so confident that Alfred would be giving him what he wanted. Well, he was right and Alfred could just nod in defeat. 

"It's settled then! You may leave." As he stood up, he felt a tug at the hem of his shirt and saw Alfred holding on to it. 

"Where are you going? We haven't even practiced yet!" 

"What are you talking about!" 

"Come on, we can't just enter the battle field unprepared!" 

"Where the hell did you get that line?" 

"Google." 

Arthur sighed and sat back on his chair. He knew that arguing with Alfred was not going to grant him the sleep he oh so desired. He blew off his bangs and yawned. 

"Fine then. But after this I am going to sleep and you are leaving!" 

"But what about these beers?" 

"You. Are. Leaving." 

"But—" When Arthur stood up, he pulled his arm and made him sit back. "Fine, fine. I'll just drink them by myself." 

"Well then, let's begin!" 

_ Arthur: I am sorry Alfred, but I just don't think this is going to work.  _

_ Alfred: So you're giving up on me? Is that it?  _

_ Arthur: No! You know I love you!  _

Alfred's cheeks turned pink in an instant. His heart flared up and he just had to hide his face with his copy of the script. 

_ Alfred: Then why are you doing this?  _

_ Arthur: How about you ask yourself that.  _

Alfred gripped on the paper unconsciously. His emotions were beginning to mix up. He was starting to get swayed. With his face hidden in his paper, he could not see Arthur's expressions but the Brit's voice was enough to drive him mad and for some reason, indeed he felt angry as he questioned  _ why?  _

_ Alfred: I love you Arthur. I really do. What do I need to do just to prove that to you? I've done everything! I give you gifts every month; I give you flowers whenever I could.  _

_ Arthur: Gave me? But you were never there. To be honest, I had spent more minutes with the delivery man compared with the time I am with you. I just, I just want to feel that you are mine and I am yours. Is that too much to ask?  _

Alfred almost tore his paper apart. He breathed in and out heavily and with his shaking fists, the paper dropped and he was met with the sight of an Arthur close to tears. 

He felt guilty. Again, he didn't know why. Why was he so much affected by their scripted conversation? Why was he so affected with the sight of a lonely British man? He closed his mouth that was partly open and ran his fingers through his hair as he looked away. 

"Alfred? Are you okay?" Arthur's voice was back to normal. He felt relieved but still, his heart and mind wouldn't calm down. 

"I'm okay. Just, really amazed by my work." He lied. 

"You're too proud of yourself. Not that it's really the worst thing you do." 

"Yeah." 

Arthur yawned and rubbed his eyes. Alfred noticed it and his gaze softened. Without thinking, he reached out to him but then he realized what he was about to do. He let his hand end up on the other's shoulder and patted him with a forced smile. 

"You should go to sleep." 

"Oh yes." Arthur stood up and smiled at him. His eyelids were beginning to drop and the bag under his eyes were beginning to emphasize themselves. "Thank you. You can show yourself out right?" He nodded. "Good. Bye now, and be careful." He saw him yawn for the last time before he disappeared at one corner of the house. 

All alone, Alfred finally let himself surrender to the weird feelings that welled up inside him all of a sudden. His shoulders dropped and he let his head rest on the table. His arms were on his sides as he tried to calm himself. 

The questions he once buried during the night were back and they were haunting him. He was the least happy about it. He felt dizzy, sad, happy, frustrated, and confused all at the same time and he didn't have an explanation for that. Was he not human? Did he acquire some disease or virus from the distressed European from the liquor store? 

He banged his fist on the table and messed his hair up as his voice danced in the air without words. 

_ Oh god, what is wrong with me? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, a longer chapter. :) Though this is more like a filler? I guess? ASDFGHJKL   
> My exams just ended so yeah I had a little bit of free time so tada!   
> Thanks again for supporting this story! I really appreciate the reviews too. Oh, and the Let it go lyrics on some reviews made me laugh. :D   
> I ship JELSA! Just saying. Sometimes I make myself believe I was the Snow Queen but reality just keeps on getting in the way. Yeah that's life.   
> My parents tell me I don't think and act like an 18-year-old girl. Gawd I don't even feel 18. Hurrdurr.   
> Anyway, suggestions are highly appreciated. Violent reactions? Go ahead and rape you capslock! Very much appreciated as well!   
> Till' next time guys! Thanks again!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHOCOLATE BONBON

Arthur found himself in the same situation he was when Alfred first kissed him on the lips. 

Yeah,  _ first.  _ Remember the time when he was invited for dinner by Alfred's mom and Ashley was there? When Alfred just pecked him on the lips as if it was entirely natural? 

Arthur wanted to be ran over by a pison then and there as the memory flashed in his mind. Why was he even thinking about their first and second kiss? Was he expecting a third one? Because the way his mental voice talked-  _ when Alfred first kissed me-  _ it sounded like they had been kissing for a long time now and he was expecting another when they meet again. My gosh, why was he even counting. 

He grunted and messed up his hair even more. 

His dilemma for the day was his workmates, again, because they had seen the scandalous retreat that Francis made. He was quite sure that once again he was to be seated at the 'Hot Seat' just like before. Answering the questions from people who refuse to listen to your replies was pretty damn hard. Especially Gilbert, oh god not that German albino. His mouth talked faster than the most talkative girl in the resto (which was Elizabetha). 

His hand slowly inched towards the door's handle, his heart gave him a drum roll as his skin made contact with that one thing that separated his supposedly peaceful life to a world that screamed showbiz. The laughter from the other side made him all the more hesitant in pulling the door. But then, as he stood there and held the knob in an iron grip, he knew that he had to eventually face all their questions. 

He closed his eyes as he gathered all the smartests retorts in all the corners of his mind. All sarcastic remarks should be in line as they waited for their turn to be shot. 

What he was to enter, was a battlefield of stupid questions after all. It would be wise to prepared- 

"Oh." A voice made his eyes snap open. 

The door opened surprisingly and Arthur was met with a confident smirk from no other than the very male albino he wanted to avoid as much as possible. Before he could even react, Gilbert's booming voice turned everyone's attention towards him. 

"Yo everyone! Kirkland's here!" 

Arthur found himself pulled inside a chaotic dimension. 

The first thing Alfred did in the morning, was to check his phone to look at the time, scowl, and fall back to sleep. 

Certainly not to check his phone and smile at the sight of Arthur's picture on his screen and stare at it for a minute or so. He was never a morning person, and the early rays of sun or the slightest hint of light in his dark room made him wince. But right then he was there, accepting the brightness from his mobile phone with a stolen shot of his favorite Brit smiling brighter than any light. The kind of bright that his eyes would happily welcome in an early Monday morning. 

The next thing he did was to get up and a mighty yawned escape his mouth. It was another thing that was entirely new for him yet for the past week it became an ordinary routine. He would wake up very early and prepare himself for the day- and to see Arthur. 

Alfred did not mind this change. In fact, he found himself getting used to it as if he had been acting that way for the past years. He did not give his actions and decisions that much attention for he refused to think about it too much which may result for him to jump to dangerous thoughts about how Arthur was affecting him. 

But then, as his eyes immediately fell back on his phone, he slowly dawned upon the reason for his smile and the elated feeling when he saw the other blonde's picture. 

Then followed all the weird emotions he felt for the last days whenever Arthur did something so heartfelt and  _ cute.  _

Did he just think about Arthur being cute? 

He rolled his eyes and let his body fall back his mattress with a slight bounce. His arm draped over his eyes. 

_ 'This is exactly what I am talking about.  _

' _ What's wrong with you man?  _

_ 'Pull yourself together Jones. This is not you.'  _

The light on his phone went off and he frowned for two reasons. 1. Because Arthur's picture disappeared, and 2. Because he did not know what to do anymore and he was so confused that he grew tired of over thinking. 

Last night, the American had been staring at his ceiling while he, for the first time, pondered over the last few days, asking the same questions over and over again, while denying and debunking the thoughts and conclusions he did not like. Until he reached an agreement with himself at exactly 2am. 

_ I promise not to think about it, ever.  _

In hope of forgetting and avoiding the possibility that he- 

_ Don't you even finish that sentence Jones. Dont. You. Fucking. Dare.  _

He threw the sheets away from him and proceeded to shower. 

Arthur paced around the tables, took orders her and there, and delivered trays of food to their diners. He kept on a smile as he approached a couple, he talked with lightness as he served a little girl with her Banana Split Deluxe. And every time Arthur left a table, he would sigh and let his smile falter from exhaustion. Who wouldn't be tired after being interrogated for the second time by hyper active workmates? 

He silently walked back the staff room to take a short break. His head was beginning to spin and the constant winks and smirks from Gilbert and the others almost made his sockets sore from rollong his eyes at them many times. 

"Hi Art! Tired?" 

He lifted his head and found Bella smiling at him as she arranged something in her locker. He answered her with a soft hum as he pulled a chair and sat down. His lids instantly grew heavier the moment he was seated. 

"So, how's Alfred?" He glared at her and she laughed. "I'm not trying to tease okay? It's just that it had een a while since he last barged in here." She combed her hair with a blue brush, watching Arthur's reflection on the mirror attached to her locker door. 

He thought about the American for a moment and it made him smile without noticing it. It was his first genuine smile so far for the whole day. He remembered Alfred chasing a loose chicken around the neighbourhood and he still have no idea where it came from. Then Alfred suffered from diarrhea for two days after eating 3 gallons of ice cream in less than 24 hours. And when he cooked pasta for him last night and the American looked so proud. 

"Art?" Bella leaned in closer and he did not even notice that she was already beside him. "You're smiling." 

"I'm not." He turned away and crossed his arms. His lips were back in the same position a minute ago."And he's fine." 

"Okay, if you say so."She whistled and Arthur simply ignored her knowing smirk. "Anyway, I need to go now. Be back shortly okay?" She stood up without waiting for him to answer and pat him in the shoulder before heading out the door. 

Arthur was thankful that he was finally alone. Though now he got himself thinking about how idiotic it was when he smiled out of nowhere. He probably looked weird and Bella was probably taking the wrong turn of thoughts about him and Alfred. 

But he decided that he wouldn't care for the moment. He deserved at least a tiny amount of rest and now he had the chance to relax even for a few minutes. He stared at nothingness and let out a silent yawn. If anyone just saw him, they would be thinking how Arthur could remain so poised even when yawning. 

He crossed his arms and leaned them on the table to serve as a temporary cushion for his head. Just as he was about to bow down, the door behind him opened and it made him jump in surprise. He turned around with a menacing glare and Bella almost shrieked. 

"I'm sorry Art! But you see," She looked out for a moment then back at Arthur. "Someone requested for you." 

"I don't care." 

"But it's a customer!" 

"And so?" He turned and positioned himself in a sleeping position. But of course it wasn't going to be just as simple as that. 

"Arthur! Wake up! The loud banging of frying pans made him jump for the second time. When he looked up, he saw Elizabetha looming over him with a deadly glare he would be no match for. "There you go. That wasn't so hard." 

"What the hell do you want?" Arthur scratched his head in annoyance. 

"Someone requested for you,  _ specifically,  _ to serve his table." 

"And who is that person for you to bother m-" 

"Francis." 

When Arthur heard his name, he cursed a little louder than normal. Without sparing the two other ladies a glance, he marched his way. 

It was easy to spot his favorite French man, and Arthur did not waste any more time in just staring at him. With his teeth biting his cheek, he approached him with his chin up and clenched fist. 

"What the fuck do you want you bloody frog?" It was the very first sentence that came out his mouth and it sent the French man off guard. 

"Is that how you talk to your-" 

"Shut up Francis." 

"Okay." 

He looked down his lap, as if curling away from the Brit's gaze. There was a awkward silence between them, oblivious of the chuckles and stares from Arthur's work mates who stole glances at them. 

"I just," Francis sighed and looked up at the other. "I just want to see you again of course." 

"And of all places, you decided that we meet here." Francis nodded his head. "Idiot." 

Francis only winked at him before opening the menu on his table while Arthur waited patiently for him. The Brit's eyes began to feel heavy again and without noticing it, he had them closed for a few seconds and he almost fell asleep. 

"So, how are you?" Francis was the first to talk again and his voice helped Arthur to prevent from falling asleep. 

"I'm fine." 

"And that Alfred guy?" 

His brows rose at the question and it took him a while to remember that he had told Francis about him and their 'pretend relationship'. There really was no reason why he told him that. It was just because he was taken by the flow of their exchange of stories the first time they met after years. Francis looked shocked when he told him though he kind of doubted that the other was truly surprised. Was it an insult that he thought of Arthur to be completely capable of playing that kind of character? 

He also made a mental note to tell Alfred sometime. 

"He's also fine."Arthur gritted his teeth when he remembered the way he acted when Bella asked him the same question. 

"I see. I thought he was dead" Francis chuckled. 

"I doubt he'd live up to 60. He eats too much burgers."Arthur lazily answered as he stifled a yawned. He didn't even notice Francis looking at him with a raised eye brow. 

"He does? That's good then." 

"Oh don't say that." 

"Why not? Do you care?" 

"Of course I do."Arthur paused and looked somewhere else as if he thought about his answer. Was his answer correct? Was it not? Was there a correct answer? 

Was he supposed to answer that way? 

"Oh" Francis bit his lip. "How about me?" 

"You're probably gonna die early as well." Arthur smirked though his drooping lids didn't make his supposed teasing look effective. 

"Why?" 

"Because a lot of women out there may have been planning a murder on you for revenge." 

"Or maybe because I'll die of a broken heart." Arthur rolled his eyes. "Don't look at me like that mon ami. Even I can suffer from such a thing you know." 

"Oh really? Are you finally, seriously in love with someone?" 

Arthur had no idea how he kept on stepping of Francis' land mine. But the French frog only smiled without answering his question properly and Arthur knew that the answer was yes. He dis not bother asking Francis any further. 

He let his mind drift away for a moment as drowsiness slowly fought its way on his eyes. He began to also feel an uncomfortable heat in his cheeks and so he pinched one in an attempt to get rid of the feeling. 

"Are you okay mon ami?" 

"Just sleepy." 

Well that was surprisingly honest of him. 

He gave in once more to his lids heaviness. Maybe a few seconds won't hurt. 

"Arthur?" 

"Yeah? Finally decided what to order?" 

"Uhm no. Actually," Francis was about to put his hands against his forehead when someone else, Toris to be exact, stood beside him and whispered something in his was confused at first. Was he being called in by the manager? Did he do something wrong? 

Francis simply watched them as the Brit's face slowly went in a panic and disbelieving expression and he wondered what may have happened for Arthur's attention to be called. 

Arthur nodded his head and looked at Francis with a sigh. 

"Uhm, I'm sorry but I need to attend to something." He apologized sincerely. When Francis obviously felt disappointed, he felt guilty. "Don't worry I'll be back. For the meantime, Toris will be serving you." 

Toris waved his hand and Francis smiled in acknowledgement before he looked back at Arthur. 

"You'll come back?" 

"That's what I said." 

Francis nodded his head and Arthur thanked him before briskly walking away towards the staff room. His sleepy state was not helping him calm down and it would always make him snap within just a few hints of stress. He wanted to sleep, or to at least just rest but he was deprived of it. Then Francis came to disturb him- well, speak with him but that was just the same thing. 

And now,  _ what the hell was Alfred doing here _ ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter done! I apologize as always for updating late so thank you very much for all you support. Woo!   
> There are a lot of mistakes in this fic since I only typed it on my tablet. Damn these touchscreen thingy.   
> Keep sending those comments and suggestions!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I strongly feel that you should strongly feel her." - Barney Stinson HIMYM

Arthur sighed at the sight of the American seated at the chair he had been on before his rest was disturbed. Alfred didn't notice him enter the room, obviously busy with the gadget on his hands. He stood by the threshold with his arms crossed on his chest as he simply stared at Alfred's back with tired eyes. Was he waiting for the other to notice him? He didn't know. Maybe he was just trying to enjoy the peace for a few more seconds before it was drowned away by Alfred's loudness.

Then it startled him a bit when the taller blonde cheered and almost pushed himself off his chair. He flinched slightly and raised a brow when Alfred suddenly stood up and turned around. He saw the American's surprise when he found him standing by the doorway and just like he predicted, Alfred threw himself at him while he shouted the blasted nickname.

"Artie!"

"I'm not Artie." He rolled his eyes and as much as he wanted to shake off the arm around his shoulders, he decided he didn't really mind it being there.

"Yes you are! You're my Artie!"

"Most certainly _not_ your Artie. Now will you please tell me what the hell are you doing here?"

Alfred's smile froze and Arthur immediately knew that the obnoxious blonde didn't have any reason at all. Or maybe if he did, it would be of total nonsense. The moment he rolled his eyes for the second time it was as if Alfred knew what was going on in his little British mind, and so the American tightened the arm that rested on his shoulders as he was led to his seat.

"Well uh, I've been actually thinking about something you know." Alfred trailed as he sat on the edge of the table just beside Arthur's chair. "I'm thinking about revising the script I showed you a few days ago."

"Revising the script? I remember you telling me it was awesome." "Yeah I did but hey, there's always room for improvement right?"

Alfred smiled at him cheekily but he wasn't going to buy it. He simply looked at the blonde on the table with his fingers playing with the lock of hair between his green eyes.

"Alfred," He resigned his back on the chair. "You don't really have anything to tell me do you?"

"I do—" He glared at Alfred and it made the American swallow his words and change them with the truth. "Okay fine. I don't really have anything to tell ya'."

It almost broke Arthur's heart to see him look defeated. He blinked away the drowsiness that fought his lids and slowly stood up with Alfred's eyes on him.

"Oh come on don't look at me like that. I appreciate the thought alright?" He smiled and ruffled the well combed hair contrary to his own sandy blonde locks. "But you see I'm tired and quite busy. I have a customer waiting for me outside so I need to go now."

"Why don't you just ask someone else to serve whoever that was?"

"Because he asked for me specifically." Alfred's lips fell to a frown in an instant after what he said. He didn't know why but he had a feeling that something pissed the other off but when he thought about what it could be, he couldn't think of anything so he simply let the weird feeling go.

"And who the hell is that _he?"_

"He's a friend!"

"Whatever! Well now I'm asking you specifically too!" The taller blonde stood up and the resistance in his voice shocked him and irritated him at the same time. Why was Alfred being childish now of all times?

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you all of a sudden! And Alfred, you're different."

"How am I different huh?"

"You're not a customer you idiot!" He snapped back and the moment those words escaped his mouth, Arthur regretted every syllable. The American was famous for coming up with the most ridiculous and most stupid ideas. Then right now he just gave him one.

When Alfred smiled, he knew he was going to be in big trouble. "Don't you even dare Jones. Don't you even fucking dare."

"But I will fucking dare Artie!" "I'm not joking!"

"Didn't say you were." Alfred walked past him but Arthur got a hold of the American's wrist which thankfully made him stop on his tracks.

Blue eyes met his own green ones and his breath hitched when Alfred smiled and took a few steps near him, enough to trap him in between the table and the taller blonde. The aura that surrounded Alfred was different. He looked up at the other's smiling face and tried to ignore the fast rhythm of his heart beat. He braced himself.

It was going to be one of Alfred's tricks again and he was not going to lose their bloody game. "Now that's kind of surprising babe. Never thought you'd miss me too soon."

Nope, he was absolutely not going to lose. In a split second, even if he was tired he tried his best to return the _favour._

"Why wouldn't I?" Arthur pouted while his fingers made their way up Alfred's collar to pull him closer and made sure that his warm breaths would touch the other's collar bones. The small gasp that escaped the other's mouth did not go unnoticeable and Arthur smirked. "Oh Alfie, you've just arrived and now you plan on leaving me, _again_."

The smirk on his face however was wiped out right away when he felt hands on his waist. But of course he tried to compose himself again.

But it was getting harder to calm himself when he felt Alfred's breath tickle his earlobe.

_Oh my god._

"Arthur, _babe_." The voice was low and a bit husky that made him all the more tensed. "You know I'll never leave you. If you want me to stay then I'll stay here with you. All you need to do is ask."

"Then _stay_."

Arthur had no idea why he said that and it surprised him as much as it surprised Alfred but of course there was no way he knew that. For once, he was thankful that Alfred didn't pull away. His face was bright red and if the American saw him like that, he was not going to hear the end of it.

"Okay."

Yet another word that surprised him and he didn't have the strength to complain anymore. He was tired, he was feeling weird. What was he to do?

Their moment was ruined though when the door suddenly flew open and it made them both jump away from each other's hold. Much to Arthur's disappointment.

_Screw that. I wasn't disappointed._

He told himself.

"Oi Arthur! Stop flirting with your boyfriend and get back to work!" Scott beamed at the door and sent both blondes a knowing look.

"We're not flirting you dumb arse! And he's not my boyfriend."

"Yeah right, whatever you say just hurry up! Toris had had enough of your _friend._ "

Arthur looked at Scott then at Alfred. He both sent them a glare before he marched towards the door. "Artie wait—"

"Now, _love._ You promised me you'll stay here if I asked you to so stay." He grinned at Alfred as he decided he won the 'teasing battle' of the day. With one final wave he closed the door behind him and left the American on his own inside the staff room.

He thought it was the end of his dilemma but he was so wrong and he should've known that.

Alfred stared at the closed door for a few seconds before he leaned back at the edge of the table. What just happened was beyond his understanding and all he knew was that he didn't feel like letting Arthur go.

And it didn't feel like Arthur wanted to let go of him as well. Or maybe he was just imagining things which he shouldn't be thinking about in the first place.

There were those weird thoughts again though this time he wasn't panicking because he somewhat felt the same odd feeling coming out from Arthur when they were so close.

_Damn we were so close._

He didn't know if it was supposed to sound disappointing or disturbing. All he knew was that it felt weird and by weird he meant _good_ but of course he didn't consider the option because it felt wrong yet it felt right.

_Stop thinking about it bastard!_

He looked back at the door. Arthur told him to stay but there was no way he was going to leave it like that right? Besides, the Brit thought that he had actually won their little _battle_ and he was definitely not going to leave the establishment as a loser.

The smirk on his face returned as he stood straight up and fixed the collar of his polo which Arthur wrinkled—

_No, don't go in that direction of thought Alfred Jones. You've gotta focus._

He was now dead curious at whoever customer asked for Arthur _specifically._ The Brit seemed to put on emphasis on the word and it only meant that whoever that was, was more important than him— _not that he was jealous or anything—_ it was just that it looked like it was a great deal for Arthur and it bothered him.

Now, the Brit's words rang at his ears and he realized that Arthur indeed had outsmarted him with that whole 'tell-me-to- stay' thing and he just promised him he would. It was in the heat of the moment and now he regretted being too carried away with the acting thing. There were a million witty comebacks than just a simple _okay_! Damn he could have asked Arthur to beg for him to stay!

But then again there was no point in staying when you're not with the person that asked you to. Arthur asked him to stay by his side. It was a request and of course, the Hero would never break a promise and he would never leave a damsel in distress.

Alfred grinned. It was going to be his victory in the end.

When Francis saw Arthur appear from that particular door he disappeared to moments prior, he had to resist the urge to stand up and meet him half way, carry him out the restaurant, and drive towards their happily ever after.

His eyes that played between purple and deep blue carefully observed the other as he neared him and he noticed thathis friend seemed to be in a better mood yet looked a lot more stressed than earlier. He didn't mind it too much though it worried him. He knew Arthur was strong and if anything would happen, he was going to be there and catch him. For now, he was just happy that his favorite Brit came back right before he finished his meal.

"I thought you'd never come back mon lapin." He smiled at Arthur who sighed when he reached his table. "I told I would so I did. Besides, I don't want to get fired for not attending to your needs."

"Oh you haven't even done a quarter of those." He smirked.

"If by _those_ you mean _perverted needs_ then I respectfully decline." Arthur huffed and crossed his arms though after he

met Ludwig Beldschmit's eyes (the manager), he dropped the casual posture and stood stiffly which made Francis chuckle.

"It took you a while. Mind if I ask why you were called?"

Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes followed by the click of his tongue. "It's Alfred."

"Alfred? Now where have I heard that name?" He raised a brow as he took a sip of wine and feigned innocence.

"Stupid frog. Don't pretend you don't know. Oh crap. Speaking of which I forgot to tell him about you. Not that it's important but..."

He chuckled but did not say anything as Arthur was lost in his thoughts. Deep inside him though, he was burning with mixed emotions and he didn't know which feeling to choose.

He was slightly envious about the fact that Alfred was his 'pretend lover' because it only meant that touching each other intimately would be inevitable. Who knows? They may have kissed already! Whether by accident or not, carried away by their acting or not, a kiss was a kiss and it pissed him off.

Even a non-malicious hug might even be enough for him to want to kick Alfred Jones' balls.

At the same time though, he was happy because those touches wouldn't really mean anything since it was impossible for them to fall in love. They were both straight.

But he was worried because there were endless possibilities and besides, it was Arthur he was dealing with, and his cute face was able to turn some straight men, gay. He knew it, he had witnessed it. Actually he figured he was one of them.

"Do you want me to fill your glass?"

Arthur's voice brought him away from his thoughts. He looked up and saw the British man holding a bottle of wine in his arms and he wondered where it came from. Had he not noticed that Arthur left him for a while?

"How kind of you."

"Enjoy it while it lasts. I'm going to cut your hair after work." Arthur smiled wickedly at him and there was no denying that the threat did make him fear for his precious blonde locks which were currently tied sexily in a ponytail, secured by a blue band.

When his glass was refilled, Arthur straightened up and closed the bottle of wine carefully. "I'm just going to return this okay?"

"Be quick. I'm going to miss you." "Oh shut it."

He watched as Arthur marched away. His eyes never left the other until he was at a good distance that made his neck ache and he had no choice but to sit back and wait for Arthur. He stared at glass which he delicately held on his fingers. The wine that the Brit gave him was outstanding and he wondered what brand it was.

_Maybe the wine's name is Arthur._ He thought as he drank. When the glass parted from his lips he frowned a little. _Maybe not. He'd taste better._ A smile crept on his face as he continued to drink and enjoy the taste of the liquid in his mouth.

Arthur may have been right that he was perverted—comparing a wine's taste with someone while drinking it wasn't the cleanest thought though it wasn't really the dirtiest.

He looked down at his drink and observed how beautiful the color was. Again, he was not able to resist comparing the beauty of it with Arthur and after seconds of staring at it, he decided that the Brit was a lot more _intoxicating_ without a doubt.

_Oh boy, I am indeed perverted._

His smiled faltered however when he heard loud and thundered footsteps not far behind him. At first it didn't bother him

but as the footsteps went nearer, he just had to perk his head up and see who had no class when it came to walking on well polished floors. Just in time when he lifted his head, the person responsible for the heavy steps walked past him and he was not able to get a glimpse of his face.

He wasn't very curious about it so he decided he would just ignore it.

But then he found out it wasn't possible the moment the guy sat at the table just a few feet across him and their eyes met. For the second time, their eyes met and Francis knew all too well when the first time was. By the way that the other stared back at him, he figured that he was well remembered.

It was the stupid American at the liquor store.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUN
> 
> Sneak peek
> 
> "Being a hero and all, I've decided to give my seat for the elderly and sit here with you instead."
> 
> Aw yeah lame sneak peek is lame but hey it's something. Forgive the errors. They're innocent. Blame me. :DD Yeehaw! Thank you for the support, reviews, faves, and follows! Rock on!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Bow ties are cool."

When Alfred saw the French man, he was not amused.

He asked some of the awesome staff on duty— which meant Gilbert— to identify Arthur's guest that he had been so curious about and the German Albino was more than happy to point out the person and even give him his name.

" _See that dude over there? The name's Francis Bonnefoy."_

His eyes narrowed the moment they landed on those ponytailed blonde locks. He'd recognize that hair anywhere. How could he forget? That man over there was the rude European guy who refused to help him back then and oh boy that pissed him off.

He spotted a table near the other and he found it to be perfect. The seat he will take would position him at an angle where he could see every moving body part of Francis and it went the same for him as well. It would be impossible for the French man not to notice Alfred from where he sat for he would be sitting just a few feet across him, facing him.

Arthur suddenly appeared out of nowhere with a bottle of wine in his hands. He watched as he slowly approached Francis and pour wine on his glass. Their lips were moving which meant that there was a conversation going on and he had to restrain himself from marching up to them and force himself to join their _lovely_ chat.

Alfred noted the sarcasm that dripped from the corner of his thoughts.

_That's what you get for hanging out with the Brit often._

His jaw tightened when he saw a smirk crawl up to Arthur's lips and even from a distance, he saw a slightly amused, slightly terrified Francis who looked so girly as he touched the hair that fell at the side of his face. Arthur then straightened up and walked away after that. He finally got an opening.

His feet felt so heavy with each step he took as he neared his considered nemesis. But that didn't mean he was nervous. Hell no. He was just excited for they would finally meet again and now he had another reason to get mad at the long-haired blonde. His posture was perfect— straight back, chin up, shoulders relaxed. A small smile plastered on his face as he passed by the other's seat. He knew that he had caught Francis' attention because he saw him look up as he walked though he seemed not to have any interest on him.

Oh he was going to change that.

Alfred sat down on his chosen seat and the moment he crossed his legs and laid back, their eyes met and he knew that he was recognized. He wouldn't question that though. Who would forget Alfred F. Jones?

The smile on his face grew wider as the other sent him an amused look. Even from a distance, he could feel unwanted vibes coming out from Francis and they flew towards him. It felt so natural to hate the guy and he couldn't help but think about them being born to be enemies from the start.

He waved his hand at him in return and it caused the other to raise a brow.

Moments later, he saw Arthur again approaching the French man's table and all the smirks and confident smiles were wiped out off his face in an instant. The two were talking again and it didn't surprise him when Arthur seemed to tense up as he turned his head around and their eyes met.

From the way his cheeks turned red, Alfred knew he pissed off but he simply smiled at him innocently. Arthur was now walking towards him and he took notice on how the Brit hugged the circular tray on his chest as if channelling his anger towards the poor plastic. He looked cute— or should Alfred say he looked funny.

"Hiya Artie! Missed me?"

"What is your problem!?" Arthur asked in a pissed off tone which was not really surprising. He glowered down at him and tried to maintain a calmed exterior as much as possible.

"Hey man. I thought you wanted me to stay with you?" He grinned. "And well, I'm also curious about your friend over there." He pointed at Francis with a smile and waved at him for the second time since he was watching them. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"I told you stay but not beside me you git! And also—" "Oh so you don't want me near you?"

"What? I said no such— I mean I don't, I didn't— Damn it Alfred that's not even the point!" Arthur sighed and let himself calm down naturally as he looked for the right words to say. Why couldn't he just answer a simple 'no'? "Just please don't cause any trouble."

"Don't worry babe, I won't." He took the Brit's hand and was about to kiss it when Arthur pulled it back quickly. "What are you planning this time?"

"Uh, giving him a good show? Surely you've told him about us—" "He knows, Alfred."

"Then I don't see why—" "He _knows._ "

"Wha— oh."

He stared at Arthur as the words were still making their way into his brain to be properly processed. The look on the other's face screamed the truth. His pursed his lips and turned to look at Francis who seemed to know what they were talking about. The way he raised his eyebrows at him was enough to tell and he didn't like it.

His eyes found Arthur once again and he knew that the Brit was able to read his mind all too well as he stood up. "Are you fucking serious?"

"Oh yes. Yes I am fucking serious." He winked at Arthur, knowing that he wouldn't be stopped.

The glass parted with Francis' lips as he took all of the French man's attention. His hands were inside his jeans' pockets as he walked confidently towardsthe table with a mischievous smile across his face. Without second thoughts, he pulled the seat available across Francis.

"What brings you here? Was your spot not satisfactory?"

"Oh no not really. It's just that, being a hero and all, I've decided to give my seat for the elderly and sit with you here instead." He replied coolly.

"I see. Well it's nice to meet you, Alfred right? Arthur told me about you."

"Oh really? That's nice to know but he's never told me about you." He grinned triumphantly before faking a frown. "I wonder why?"

Francis opened his mouth for a witty response but the defeated and annoyed voice of Arthur cut off the rising tension between the American and the French man.

"I see you both are done with the introductions. At least I don't have to carry that burden." Arthur sighed and looked at the other two with tired eyes. "So what can I get you, gentlemen?"

"Hiya Artie! Well I would like some fri—" Alfred was cut off by Francis. "Rest mon lapin. You look so drained."

"Uhm yeah. I was gonna say that!" He took Arthur's hand in his. He felt the stare Francis sent him. "I would like you to rest."

Alfred felt a lump on his throat as Arthur sent them looks of confusion. He knew it was rare for him to send away the Brit in peace since all he ever did was bother him with every chance he got. He liked the attention though he would never admit it sometime soon.

"Are you two alright?"

Oh, Arthur was clever and he did not forget that. The Brit probably knew that there was something going on between him

and Francis. To be honest, he didn't exactly know what that 'something' was but if there was one thing for certain, he knew that he had to deal with Francis one way or another. Whatever the reason was, he soon will find out.

As for the moment, he felt that a one on one talk with Francis was kind of necessary and that Arthur need not be part of it.

"We're fine Arthur but you clearly are not." He looked at Francis and he knew that the same thought were playing on the French man's mind.

"Yeah Artie. Go on and rest. Or do you like me to come with you?" "Stop calling me Artie, and I don't need you to assist me."

He heard a chuckle escape Francis' lips and a vein in his forehead almost popped. He retained his composure and pretended he was not affected.

"I must be going now then. Just call for me if you need anything." Arthur looked at them one more time as if analyzing the situation properly though he quickly gave up with a sigh. Alfred was thankful that the Brit was exhausted enough to even bother thinking too much.

He and Francis smiled at Arthur reassuringly.

"Just don't cause any trouble okay? And," Arthur bit his lip and glared at them. "And don't dare fight no matter how idiotic the reason is. Got that?"

The Brit was indeed smart.

He held a thumbs-up and Francis nodded his head. With that, Arthur was off and the both of them watched him disappear into the staff door and when he was out of their sight, the tension between the two males quickly resurfaced and all innocent smiles were dropped.

"So, what's your name? I did say that Arthur never, _ever_ mentioned you." Alfred almost let a wide smile escape him when Francis frowned. Obviously, the other didn't like what he just said.

"It's Francis Bonnefoy." The words dripped like it should appear dangerous that Alfred would regret he asked. "And I'm not really surprised if he didn't mention me. Arthur is a man of secrets that even the shallowest ones would not spill out his lips. I think you're not that close to him then that's why."

It was Francis' turn to wear the triumphant face but then Alfred was not backing down.

"Oh I don't know about that. I mean, you don't even have the slightest idea what we do together... When we're alone."

"Not really. I've known Arthur for years so I'm quite sure that all he did with you was exchange insults and throw sarcasm in your face."

"You've known him for years?"

"Oh yes." The French man's words rolled smoothly from his lips as he took a sip of wine from his glass.. He looked at Alfred as if it were already his victory. "I've known him since he was 10 years old. You could say we are childhood friends."

"Then how come he _never_ mentioned you if you were _that close._ " "Because you were _not_ that close to him."

"You don't even know what we do when—"

"Oh don't start with that again." Francis chuckled and leaned back on his chair when he realized he had leaned forward on the table too much. The same went for Alfred. "To be honest, I can't see the reason why you're even arguing with me. Is this like, a contest? Who's the best among the best friends?"

"So now you're telling me that you are his best friend?"

"Why of course! I've known him for many years which means I know him far better than you do." "What makes you think that? I know Artie very much as well!"

"Really?" He nodded at Francis who then placed his glass on the table. Alfred knew that things were about to get more serious as the French man finally let go of his still half-full glass of wine. "Then you don't mind me asking questions about him?"

"Shoot." He answered confidently. "Okay. What's Arthur's full name?" "Easy. Arthur Kirkland."

"I said full name. You only gave me two out of four."

"Four!?" His voice squeaked from trying to stop being loud. "How could there be four? That's like, impossible!" ''It's not impossible, idiot." Francis laughed at him and he didn't like it one bit.

"You're making this up, aren't you?" "I'm not."

"Then what's his full name?"

"I'm not telling. If you want you can just ask him yourself." Alfred rolled his eyes and leaned back on his chair in defeat. "Fuck you. That was too hard for me. Now shoot another question."

"I suppose so. Then let's go with the basic." After a short pause, Francis smiled. "How old is he?" "Tss. Easy. He's 24."

"Birthday?" "April 23." "Blood type?"

"What the fuck man? How is that even—" "Do you know the answer?"

"Well— no. But that's not a basic question! You said basic but that's not like, basic you know! And what the hell wy do you even know that?" Blue eyes rolled as his arms were crossed on his chest.

"Fine then. Favorite color?"

He grinned at the question, obviously knowing the answer all too well. Alfred still remembered that day when Arthur came home late and he cooked him pasta and they shared a few laughs together that felt just so good and so right. It was like nothing could go wrong even if he knew that there was something wrong with him. Because when the Brit told him his color, for a moment he thought that there was a very big chance of Arthur looking at his own sky blue eyes and seeing him to be someone so _special._

"It's blue." He answered with a smile. It confused Francis for a moment but then he was able to fire a back up question. "Why blue?"

Okay he was not expecting that. Did Arthur actually had a reason for liking that color?

"Because..." He trailed off as he tried to think of an answer. "Because come on, who wouldn't like blue?" "You're fucking hopeless."

"I'm not! Shut up!"

"Whatever! Last question, what's Arthur's favorite tea?" "Lipton?"

Francis didn't even bother to tell him he was wrong.

When he saw how the French man shook his head and began to drink wine again, he felt like he was being mocked. Who did this Francis think he was? He was a know-it-all when it came to Arthur but he wasn't even there when the Brit needed him. Some friend that French dude was! But then again, some friend he was to Arthur as well. He didn't even know that basics. Damn, he did not even know much about Arthur!

Silence fell between the two. Alfred's hand gripped tightly inside his pockets while Francis took another sip from his glass which seemed never to run out of wine no matter how much he drank. Both of them bit their lips until Francis decided to break the uncomfortable stillness.

"Alfred, are you still competing with me as Arthur's best friend?" The sudden question confused him but he did not say anything. "Because if you want to be his best friend then I'll gladly give you the crown."

Now that confused him a lot more and it gave him a bad feeling.

"The hell are you talking about?" Francis looked at him with serious eyes.

"You see, I don't want to be just a best friend. I want to be something more than that." The French man looked at the crowd of people behind Alfred as his thought took him somewhere else. "Alfred Jones, I'm going to tell you a secret but the only reason I'm going to is because I want to make sure that you are not a _threat._ "

The last word made Alfred's heart beat faster in anticipation and nervousness. What did the other mean by him being a threat? What did he mean something more? As he thought of those words silently, everything was beginning to dawn on him slowly and he did not like whatever that was to come next.

"Tell me." It was not a request, it was a demand for an answer that he would not like. "Tell me Francis, what are you trying to say?"

Francis bit his inner cheek as he stared back at the other's eyes which reflected his own. They were both on fire and the tension kept on rising and rising which might be enough to burn someone and turn people into ash.

"I'm in love with Arthur."

Alfred unconsciously clenched his fists and his nails dug on his skin but he didn't even feel the pain. "I'm in love with Arthur. I've been loving him for a long, long time you have no idea how—"

"But you can't." "I'm sorry?"

"I said you can't." The word left him without even thinking. His hands shook as the grip got tighter. "What are you saying Jones? Could it be—"

"Shut up. You can't, okay? You can't love him because I'm not allowing it!"

Alfred breathed in deeply, equally confused as to what he was saying but he dare not question it as of the moment because he only knew one thing.

"You just _can't._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't expecting the chapter to be like this. ._.   
> Dun dun dun dun dun dun dun ooh wee oooh


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yo.

" _You just can't._ "

"What do you mean I _just can't?_ "

Alfred stared at Francis' questioning eyes which bore into his own. Both of them looking for an answer to the same question and it was a bad thing for the American to not know what it was. Why did he say it in the first place? Was there a reason? Was it only because he hated Francis? But where was this lack of fondness coming from? Because he was not the kind of person who held grudges over a simple beer issue and the resent he felt towards the other man was something greater than he ever experienced before.

And he could not explain every single bit. There was just no answer.

But Alfred Jones never ran out of words to say and excu— rather, answers to give. "Because Arthur's not gay." He spat quickly while his lips curved in an unsure smile.

Upon hearing the answer though, Francis gave out a laugh to his surprise. It was not a joke and it was not meant to be funny. There was seriousness in the way he spoke so it confused him as to why the French man was laughing.

Francis leaned back on his chair. The tension on his shoulder disappeared in an instant and he looked at him once again in the eye.

"Arthur doesn't need to be gay to love me. It may be that he'd find no other man attractive except for me. I can be _the_

exception to his life rules and norms."

The words dripped out with confidence and it seemed that there was nothing Alfred could say back. Then again of all the people he was not going to let himself be silenced Francis and of course he did not agree with what the other blonde said.

"That's not possible." "Oh yes it is."

"No it isn't." He crossed his legs with his hands clasped on top of his knees. "It's not possible. Because one, you claim to be his best friend and I'm telling you buddy that it's impossible to get out of the friendzone. Two, it's impossible to get out of the friendzone if your best friend is _also_ a guy."

"Now first, stop categorizing and discriminating people. It's unhealthy. Second, I managed to get out of that zone Alfred. And all I need to do is to pull Arthur up with me on the same side."

"You were never on the same side." "Why are you so against this?"

"Because I'm his best friend!" He slammed his fist on the table without a thought and he did not even bother about the lack of etiquette and temper management.

Francis shook his head to show disapproval of what he just heard from the American.

"You're in no position to say those things. You know nothing about him and to be honest he's not that fond of you." "He's fond of me!"

"He doesn't like you calling him nicknames!" "And he likes it when you do?"

"He doesn't complain."

"Because he doesn't care." Alfred leaned forward with his elbows at the edge of the table. "It doesn't mean he likes it."

"He likes it because he lets me." Francis leaned forward as well with conviction. "You're such an idiot."

They stared at each other for the next minute without saying anything. No one dared break the tension because it was entirely impossible and they knew that their resentment towards each other may possibly last a lifetime. For one of them it would be worth it, and for the other it would be years of having failed.

It was true that they were off at a bad start but then it was not anymore because of that.

"I don't like you Alfred Jones." Francis looked at him straight in his blue eyes as every word was spoken with _sincerity_. Alfred was more than happy to reciprocate.

"Oh my gosh what a coincidence!" The American leaned back comfortably and clasped his hands. "I don't like you too." "Finally we've agreed something."

"Yeah, finally." "Good."

"Good."

Silence fell once more and it was getting dramatic with every second that passed. Neither one of them was smiling anymore, not even the dark smile they were wearing when they first caught each other's eyes just minutes back. Giving up was not an option though the only difference:

One of them knew what exactly he was fighting for.

The other one thought he knew what he was fighting for.

But none of that mattered at the moment because there was no time to think about it as Arthur was steadily heading his way towards them. They didn't need to turn their heads to know he was coming because their eyes were always on alert whenever they caught even the slightest shadow of their all time favorite, British man. Their peripherals were enough.

The moment Arthur got close enough, they immediately burst out laughing as if they were instructed to. Now the amazing thing about what just happened was that they thought of doing the exact same thing at the exact same time for the exact same reason.

"We're friends!" Both blondes said in unison—another unplanned thing— and Arthur looked at them as if it was the creepiest thing he had seen. If he only knew that they were fucking surprised themselves.

His green eyes went back and forth from Alfred's grin and Francis' smirk. He raised a brow and continued to walk closer to their table in a slower pace. It was better to be careful around lunatics.

"I wasn't asking."

"Oh right." They spoke the same words at the same time again. From Arthur, they looked at each other with disbelief. IF they weren't in a place full of other people, they would've long strangled and accused each other for the lack of creativity.

Arthur continued to look at them, unsure.

Then they found themselves laughing at each other again which confused, and honestly speaking, scared the British waiter a lot more than seconds ago.

"Jeez bro! Stop doing that!" Alfred pretended he was laughing so hard and to complete the act, he was pounding the table a little stronger than intended. Francis on the other side had his arms around his stomach.

"Why me? It's obvious that you were copying me!"

"Copying you? I'm too awesome to copy you. Maybe you're copying me!"

"I'm not! You're definitely copying me!" Francis continued to laugh though it was slowly dying and it was the same for Alfred as another debate was starting to brew. Arthur's existence was easily forgotten.

"I told you, I'm not because you are!" "It can't be me! I'm the _first!_ "

"You callin' me _second?_ "

"What else is there after first if not second?"

For a minute there they forgot that they should be wearing friendly, hear-warming smiles. That was why it was just so creepy for Arthur to see their faces twist from very happy to pissed and back to bursting out laughing.

"Mon dieu! We're like, like brothers!"

"I know right?" Alfred raised his arms and tried to look impressed. "There's like this connection ya'know. Between us." "Wow that's creepy."

"Man I know it's creepy."

"You're both bloody creepy will you stop that?" It was only the second time that Arthur managed to say something since he arrived.

Both men looked at him and god he was thankful that they stopped laughing though they still were looking at him with silly faces.

"Oh Artie you're still here!" Alfred stood up to embrace him but hands were pushing him away. Not that the force was enough to stop him.

"Don't hug me!" The moment he had his arms firmly around the Brit's small body, the struggling stopped and of course he wouldn't miss Francis' face. The French man was drinking wine again, pretending he was not bothered.

He grinned and let go of Arthur, satisfied with what he earned. "I've been standing here the whole time!"

"Yeah Alfred, how could you have not noticed." Francis cooed. The smile on his face was coming back for revenge.

"What? Of course I noticed! I mean how could you not notice Artie eh?" He looked at the British man, smiled, and looked back at Francis. "He's very uh, you know, noticeable."

"Are you trying to imply something?" Arthur crossed his arms. "Oh no I'm not referring to your eyebrows."

"Alfred Jones!"

"Come on, stop that. He gets really insecure about'em." "Shut up, frog!"

"Hah! He called me by my name but you weren't!" Alfred stuck his tongue out and winked back at Arthur (he's intentionally making the winking-at-Arthur a habit). He expected though, for the French _frog_ to finally run out of words to say but the smile on his face did not waver.

"We've got a thing for nicknames, Arthur and I. That's not really surprising for someone who had been together for a long time." It was spoken as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"But you were not together for a long time."

"Are you imbeciles fighting?" Another rare moment for Arthur to be able to speak in the middle of the other two's conversation. They looked at him, slightly surprised or rather, panicking on thinking for an answer.

"Don't be ridiculous mon cheri!"

"Yeah! We're friends! Possibly best friends in the future." "Ah, I would love that, Jones."

"Guess what? Me too!"

They were both wearing grins again and neither had any idea how it spooked their British friend. It was clear as crystal

that they were a deadly combination for reasons that were still unknown. That was for Arthur to find out of course but not so soon.

"So uh, are you both done?" Arthur asked the two. His eyes jumping from one to another as he waited for a response. The two men didn't even look at him since they were too busy in winning the staring contest. "Good! Now I think it's time for you two lads to go home."

As if it was a magic word, the two snapped back and turned to him.

"I'm not leaving." Alfred spoke first since the French man across him seemed to be thinking the same thing. "I mean, I'll be waiting for you back at the staff room..." He took a quick glance at Francis.

"As for me, I need to take my leave."

"Yeah you do that." Alfred stood up and held out a hand towards him enthusiastically. "It's really, _really_ nice meeting you though!"

His offered hand was not abandoned as the other stood up and shook it with the same amount of enthusiasm. From where the Brit stood, the handshake looked so innocent yet the truth was that the blood on their hands stopped flowing with how tight their grip was.

Their hands almost shook but what amazing control they had and they were only filtering their strength because of Arthur's presence. There was nothing needed to be told out loud. Between them, there was an established understanding.

When they pulled their hands back, it was numb and pale.

Alfred watched every move that the so-called frog made. His smile grew wider at the sight of him shaking the hand he held. It only proved how strong and mighty he was and perhaps, if Francis was a coward he would back out and give up the idea about Arthur. But then he should've known better about what was going on in Francis' mind.

The numbed hand he just shook extended towards his Brit and before Alfred knew it, French fingers held Arthur's own and a kiss was planted at the back of his hand. Francis' movements were smooth, slow, as if he was making sure that the feeling of his lips would linger in Arthur's skin. For Alfred, Francis just stepped beyond his caution tape.

He took a step forward to push Francis away and save Arthur even if he knew that the man did not need any saving. For him, the Brit was a very precious thing and low life forms such as frogs were not allowed to touch him, more so, kiss him.

"Gah! Shoo!" Alfred stopped in surprise when Arthur pulled his hand back into safety and at the same time, stepped on Francis' foot protected only by leather. He had experienced the same thing numerous times since Arthur was rather fond of doing it to him and he knew it hurt a ton.

"That was quite mean, mon lapin." Francis stood straight and took a step back. Alfred did not miss his foot shifting of course but he had to admit that Frenchie was good at pretending it did not freakin' hurt even a little.

Alfred regained his composure and smiled at his newly found friend.

"I was actually being nice you frog. I could've kicked you in the balls except I can get fired if I do."

The American was not able to contain the laugh and it wasn't like he bothered if Francis saw and knew that he was laughing at him. The French man knew anyway so what was the point in trying to control his laughter?

"Oh my god are you okay Francis?" "Never have been better, Alfred." "Good for you then!"

"Yeah. Good for me."

"How about you leave now?" Alfred gestured towards the doors that lead outside.

"Of course." Francis looked at the doors, a quick glance at Alfred since it was inevitable for his eyes not to pass by him, and then his gaze locked with Arthur's who was looking at him with an accusing look again. He chuckled and lifted his hand again to pinch the Brit's cheek, the way a girl would do to anything cute.

He just had to get on Alfred's nerves at the last moment.

"See you then Alfred." Francis' hand landed on his shoulder and he felt a tight squeeze on it. It was almost painful but of course he acted as if it was nothing. "And Arthur, take care."

"Don't worry, I'll take care of him." Alfred unconsciously hooked his arm with Arthur's. "I can take care of myself!"

They both ignored the protest because as much as it was true, it was also not.

As Alfred stared longer at Francis, it became more difficult to keep his calmed, unbothered face. He was screaming inside but he didn't know what he would be screaming about. He wanted to punch the French jerk's face because he just did not like it. He wanted to pull the long blonde hair because every time he looked at it.

He imagined Arthur combing the strands when they were still young, years ago, when he did not know that a certain Arthur Kirkland existed.

He could see Francis kissing Arthur's hands everyday just to see his cute, flustered face back in high school. He could... well damn.

_Dear Heroic Brain, please stop functioning for a while. You're confusing me. Sincerely yours, Alfred Fucking Jones._

"Oi Alfred!" Arthur snapped his fingers in Alfred's face. The American seemed to be so lost in his thoughts and he never knew it was even possible.

It did work though. Alfred turned his head towards him and had his brows raised as if asking him what he needed. "Hey Artie! What is it?"

"Git. I said if you're going to wait for me then go back at the staff room. Now." He crossed his arms and huffed. It was meant to be commanding, intimidating, so that Alfred would just go without throwing any question at him but once again the American was lost.

"Oi! Jones!" He pushed him slightly and it woke Alfred from his 1 minute daydream. "If you're tired then you can just go home you know."

"But I'm not tired. Just..." Alfred trailed and he knew that the lad had something to say. He had been with the American long enough to know almost everything about him. Just almost and it wasn't as if he was prying or asking questions every second. The lad was just too talkative for his own good.

But he got to admit that Alfred's trust was comforting. It did not mean he was a special person to his life.

"Just what?" His head fell to the side but his eyes remained locked in the other's own blue ones. When Alfred scratched the back of his neck, he knew that the man was hesitating either because he was shy (even if it seemed unrealistic, Alfred got shy from time to time), or if he was just trying to remember what his question was.

"Well... Actually never mind." Before Alfred could even turn around and leave him, Arthur pulled the younger blonde's ear quickly while no one was looking.

"Ow!"

"Is there something bothering you?" He stood straight and looked at Alfred in the eye without blinking. There clearly was something going on in Alfred's head and admittedly he was worried. A bothered and uneasy face never suited the lad after all.

"Nothing Artie."

"If you don't answer me right now I swear—" He pulled and twisted the other's earlobe again. Thank god Alfred was able to stop himself from swearing loudly. "Come on, what is it? After all the things we've done together, now is not the time to be shy you know?"

Alfred's crimson cheeks were priceless— _adorable. I did not bloody say adorable._

"I'm not shy!" "Then what is it?"

"I was just thinking." "Blimey you can do that?" "Shut up!"

"I'm just teasing, love." The pet name was not intentional but even if it was, for Arthur it was just ordinary, everyday language. He should have known that with Alfred's current state, the pet name would embarrass him even more. It was evident when the American abruptly turned around and briskly walked away with just a quick "Shut up limey!"

"What did you just—" Alfred was gone before he could even finish talking.

_What the hell's wrong with him?_

If he only knew the number of times Alfred asked himself the same question, but then maybe it would be better for him to be clueless. Because the moment the American was able to find the answer he was looking for, it would be Arthur's turn to ask himself: _What the hell's wrong with me?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god we're finally getting started. ASDFGHJKL Finally!
> 
> And Alfred. My dear, poor Alfred Jones will be going under a lot of thinking for the first time in his life. Thanks as always for being awesome readers! I'm trying my best not to let you guys down. :)


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You wouldn't know me at all, Today.  
> From the fading light I fly!
> 
> .
> 
> .
> 
> .
> 
> RIIIISE LIKE A PHOENIX!

Alfred crawled out of his bed with zero energy. As his body's first half landed on the floor, one hand blindly searched for his glasses on his bedside table which knocked out some of his other, unimportant things.

 _Shit._ He muttered when a glass of water ungracefully fell on the floor beside him. Not the he really cared about the mess. He was just glad that the glass did not break into pieces. At least there was nothing much to clean up. The water could just go and evaporate. Hopefully be gone by the end of the day.

 _Tsk._ He couldn't find his glasses so instead of trying harder, he just let the rest of his body slide down the sheets and soon, he was fully lying on his stomach. _What now?_

He felt like crap was beaten the hell out of him due to lack of sleep. Even without a mirror, Alfred could feel the bags under his eyes shouting and destroying his youthful image which was not good. Why on earth was he even in that state? Last time he checked, sleep was one of the most precious things he valued. So why?

 _Oh._ When Alfred tried to remember, the more he felt stress swallow him. He sighed and let his hands mess his hair up even more. He grunted, clicked his tongue, and rolled over on his back with his eyes on the cream-colored ceiling.

 _That's right._ Since the events yesterday, the American's mind had been bothered by the one and only Francis Bonnefoy, and his relationship with Arthur. Fuck. Just the word _relationship_ was enough to piss him off. Not knowing where the hate came from was another thing that was making him mad. Fuck. He shouldn't be thinking about it at all! He was making a big deal out of it when the only thing he should be focusing on was _how_ _to_ _protect Arthur_. Yep. That was all there is to it as a heroic best friend.

After minutes of staring at nothing, Alfred decided it was time to get up and get ready for the day. Something big was going to happen and his mind needed all the power it could muster in order to pull out the act for the day, especially since his partner in crime had unbelievable skills that could rival his.

It was the day when Arthur and Alfred would fight and destroy their 'perfect couple' image. He felt uneasy about the idea but then this said fight between them would be the perfect twist to make their _relationship_ reach deeper and become unquestionable.

Alfred kept in mind, _the more you hate, the more you love._

He smiled. But then he remembered, didn't Arthur hate Francis?

_Fuck._

Arthur's brows twitched for the third time as another minute passed beyond the supposed meeting time. It had been a quarter past 9 am and Arthur was halfway done with finishing the tea he ordered. Other than that, he was just a few words short to completing the crossword puzzle on the newspaper which was given to him by the waitress for free. Now that he thought of it...

"Excuse me sir, do you need anything else?"

He raised his head and smiled at her. For the fourth time, he shook his head and said no. Fourth time. Fourth bloody time and with each return of the woman, he couldn't help but notice the buttons of her uniform were undone one by one.

Arthur sighed. As much as he wanted to return and enjoy the attention he was receiving, he couldn't and he wouldn't for obvious reasons.

"Hello sir. Are you alone?" "No. I'm waiting for someone." "I see. Would you like—"

"No. I'm completely fine."

"I uh, see. Just call me if you need anything."

The Brit went back to solving the puzzle he had been working on, mildly cursing at the fact that Alfred was late and he was slowly falling into an awkward situation with the admittedly cute-but-not-his-type waitress.

"Hey Artie!"

At the mention of his name, he looked up and rolled his eyes, not even bothering to return the bright smile sent to him by his tardy partner.

"About bloody time you arrive." "Dude, I'm only 15 minutes late." "Is that supposed to impress me?"

"Of course! Other people arrive an hour late ya'know?"

Arthur did not argue back anymore and let the American pull the seat beside him. He took his tea, raised it to his lips as the scent embraced his nostrils which made him smile. Tea never let him down, tea was always there for him, and tea was able to calm him down always.

"What'cha smiling at?"

His eyes turned to look at Alfred as he took a sip at his tea then gracefully put it down beside the newspaper before he answered.

"I was not smiling." "Yes you were."

"I wasn't. Now shut up." "Meanie."

"What's new?"

When Alfred pouted, Arthur couldn't help but chuckle. His companion had always been so childish and it fascinated him. It was like a child's soul was trapped in a grown man's body.

"You're smiling again." The American pointed out and Arthur did not deny it anymore which somehow seemed to please his companion.

Time check, 9:25. About 35 minutes left before their much awaited performance. As Arthur thought about it, he slowly felt nervousness slowly crawling through his skin. Will they be able to go through it? Would it be a success? What if, for the first and of all the times that passed, they fail?

"Now you're not smiling." When he turned his head, Alfred was looking at him with concern on his face. "Thank you for pointing that out." Of course, Alfred for some reason cannot detect sarcasm.

"You're welcome." "You're impossible." "You're lovely."

"You're—what?" "What?"

"What?"

"What?"

"Alfred!"

"What!?"

He blinked as he tried to recover himself from the confusion and Alfred did the same. Then for some reason, the American began to avoid eye contact with him. He tried to follow the other's blue eyes— his neck craned left and right, up and down as he did his best to catch Alfred's line of vision but he was easily avoided. Arthur did not even realize he was already half standing in an effort to lock his eyes with Alfred.

Eventually of course, he grew tired and sat back in defeat. His elbows rested on the table. Despite him being unsuccessful, he knew it wasn't his loss. Yet.

He grinned at Alfred, amused at how his friend was acting. "I'm lovely?"

"Didn't ya' hear me?"

Alfred turned back at him and it took him by surprise when their eyes met. The grin on his face was mirrored perfectly and it only messed up his mind more. Was this another silly game between them? Of course it was and Arthur was not going to lose. He was pretty sure that the other was thinking that exact same thing.

"I just want you to say it again, dear." "You're _lovely._ "

His heart skipped a beat upon hearing the words for the second time. It was clearer and it entered his ears like music which sent shivers on his spine. He did not expect Alfred to really say it again with an affectionate and genuine tone. If he did not know what his partner's true motive was and if he were some woman in the street, there was no doubt that he would fall for it. Hard.

_Damn it I'm not losing this. Think Arthur. Think! Act!_

_More convincing. More—_

"You're blushing."

"I'm not." He answered sharply. When Alfred laughed out loud, he knew he just lost.

_Bloody hell._

Arthur crossed his arms, hissed, and then clicked his tongue in utter disappointment. He was better than that! Why the hell was he even affected?

He remained silent and tried his best to act as if Alfred wasn't sitting beside him. He pretended it did not bother him but the more he tried, the more it gave him away and it only fed the other's amusement. Eventually as another minute passed, the laughter died and his ears were relieved.

"Dude you should've seen your face." "Drop it, git."

"Ain't gonna."

Actions speak louder than words. Arthur made sure the American understood him by pinching the other's arm as hard

as he could.

"Ow ow ow ow stop OW!"

Pleased with his work, he smiled triumphantly while drank the remaining tea in his cup as the man beside him try to relieve the pain caused by the small red spot on his arm.

Time check, 9:40.

"Fucking asshole!"

Ashley slammed her fist on the table which scared the maids inside her room and caused them to flee out. At least she did not have to exert extra effort to shoo them away. Her eyes glared and her hand shook from her firm grip on her phone.

" _I'm really sorry ma'am..."_ The voice on the other end wavered and it only irritated her more. "You should've tried harder! Did you unbutton your uniform?"

" _Yes ma'am._ "

"Did he look at your breasts?"

" _Unfortunately no._ "

"How can he ignore you? How— Damn it!" She breathed in. "Not even a glance?" " _Not the_ _slightest."_

She breathed out.

After weeks and weeks of spying at Alfred F. Jones, she had successfully mastered everything there was to being the perfect stalker. She knew where the tall blonde went, whom he talked to for the past days, and all his plans for the week were implanted on her head. When she knew about his date with Arthur Kirkland, her blood boiled and she knew she had to make a move.

So she sent someone to seduce Alfred F. Jones. Even if it was not her, having Alfred cheat on the Brit was enough. At least it would reassure her that the man was not entirely serious with Arthur.

"What's Alfred doing now?"

" _Uhm, he's talking to another man,_ " Ashley rolled her eyes. Arthur of was that _another man. "A tall man with glasses."_

Glasses? The last time he checked, Arthur did not wear—

_Fuck!_

"Describe Alfred." " _But why—_ "

"I said, _describe Alfred._ " Her voice was low and threatening and the woman on the other end was too scared to do otherwise.

" _Well he's blonde. Uh, green eyes and thick eyebrows—_ "

"STUPID BITCH!" No use in containing her anger. "That wasn't Alfred! What the hell were you thinking? Didn't I describe him to you?"

" _Y-yes you did m-ma'am._ " "And what did I say?"

" _Blonde, handsome man with a sexy voice._ " "Then why?"

" _I'm really sorry ma'am! I-I thought he was— because you said handsome and sexy and..."_

As the woman she hired continued to ramble on and say excuses, Ashley couldn't help but somewhat blame herself. Her hatred for the Brit turned her thoughts on a biased trail. Everything about Arthur was ugly. Everything about Arthur was not sexy. Everything about Arthur was a turn off. Everything about that man was the worst and he did not deserve Alfred. She was better. She was the best. She was supposed to be Alfred's everything and Arthur his nothing.

She forgot that there was a reason why Alfred F. Jones fell in love with Arthur Kirkland.

With her thoughts occupied by a sudden rage of strong emotions, she completely forgot the other person on the line and threw her phone on the ground with all the strength she had.

Time check, 10:05.

"She'll be here any minute soon." Alfred whispered excitedly at Arthur as they both stared at a dress shop on the other side of the street. "Remember your lines, kay' _honey_?"

"No worries, _dear._ "

"Do you wanna practice again?" "Are you nervous?"

"Of course not. Pfft."

He rolled his eyes at Arthur, purposely trying to imitate the way the Brit expertly did it and it earned him a light punch on his arm. It made him laugh and mutter an apology.

Minutes passed and people came in and out of the establishment. Fat, thin, pretty, simple, ugly, gay, lesbian, straight, handicapped, athletic, but not a sign of Mrs. Sandra Jones and both blonde's patience were getting thinner. At first they exchanged jokes, taunts, made fun of each other, pissed each other, but after half an hour passed, both of them eventually ran out of something to say.

"Hey Artie." Well, Alfred never ran out of words so we had to make an exception. "What?"

"Wot?" He imitated with exaggeration which made the shorter blonde turn his head to face him. When Arthur lifted his arm, he flinched as he expected another hit to land anywhere on his body. Fortunately, the man seemed satisfied with his reaction as the suspended arm returned back by its owner's side.

It was 10:35 and Alfred found himself suddenly occupied. Nope he wasn't playing with his phone. Nope he wasn't blasting music on his earphone. And nope he wasn't checking out ladies that passed by them.

Rather, he was checking out the bored, British man beside him.

 _Correction!_ He was not checking him out. He was admiring him but he would never admit that.

Alfred observed his partner from the corner of his eyes. From there he began to notice the tiniest things about Arthur. Like how his hair, despite being messy and untamed, swayed softly along with the wind that he had to stop himself from running his fingers through them. Whenever he wrinkled his nose at the smell of a strong perfume, Alfred found it cute— funny! He meant he found it funny.

_Oh come on!_

10:40 and still no sign of his mother but he cannot even bring himself to carry anymore. Now that he had Arthur standing still under his eyes, despite the Brit being unaware, he just felt the need to stay that way a little longer even if there was this fear inside him that was slowly growing as every minute passed.

Fear of what exactly? _Fear of what exactly?_ "What are you staring at?"

"Uuuuuh...Your eyebrows." He spat out and before he even realized it, it was too late to pull the words back in is mouth. "And you've got a problem with that?"

"Nah. Just bothered."

Boom. Another land mine he shouldn't have stepped on. "If _they_ bother you then don't look!"

"But they're so noticeable!"

What the fuck? Why won't he shut up?

"Right. Just like what you agreed with Francis."

"Francis? What's that jerk— I mean, Francis got to do with this?"

Alfred raised his voice and it did not surprise him if Arthur suddenly flinched when he spoke. He was trying to make a point. He just didn't know what it was yet but he was trying.

"Wait, did you just call Francis a jerk?"

"What now? You're offended? You feel sorry for him? Huh? HUH?" "Why are you shouting at me?"

"Why aren't ya' answering me?" "I asked first!"

"I am Alfred!"

"That's not even a—" " _Darlings!"_

Both men turned their heads towards the sudden female voice behind them. To their surprise, it was the person they had been waiting for for half an hour now. Their eyes were wide open which went the same for their mouths.

One second they had so many things to say and then the next second their tongues ran dry. "Are you two fighting?"

"YES!"

"NO!"

Mrs. Jones raised a brow. "What _?"_

 _Oh_ _shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still alive! My ghaaad. I just noticed that my profile picture fits perfectly with this story. Like, wooah it was meant to be.  
> This chapter's a bit rushed. I'm really busy, sorry. I'm so sorry. So I'll leave you with this give away!  
> Sneaky peaky:
> 
> "You'd make a good wife." "I'm not a girl."  
> "I don't mind."
> 
> "What?"
> 
> "What?"
> 
> (I'm loving their 'what?' moments lol.) MASSIVE THANKS as always!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is by far, the longest chapter in this fic I think. Bwahaha!

Sandra Jones was no psychic but she did not have to be one just to know if there was something going on between his son and said son's lover. She watched the two young men shy away from her suspecting stare. A wide smile graced her lips but that only meant that lying to her would be the worst thing to ever do.

"It's just a small misunderstanding ma'am."

She looked at Arthur whose eyes met hers in a straight line. His lids were slightly drooped and an apologetic smile graced his lips. There was no doubt he was telling the truth and she believed him.

"I see." She giggled and patted the Brit's head even if he was inches taller than her. The gesture was soothing, reassuring, and had a pint of fondness that Sandra felt like Arthur was also her child. Speaking of child...

The woman turned to her son who looked like he was still in a foul mood. It was easy to tell when the person you were trying to describe was so damn easy to read. Not to mention, she had been his mother for 21 years.

Alfred's eyes were staring blankly away from the two and his lips were pursed. His shoulders played between relaxed and tensed. His breathes came out in small but heavy sighs.

"I'm sorry if my son's giving you so much trouble." She spoke as her eyes bore into Alfred's being. When the man pretended he did not hear her, she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Hey young man! Don't you dare ignore me. Should you really behave like that in front of your boyfriend?"

"Mom!"

"What!?"

His lips opened and closed while his eyes jumped from his mom and then at Arthur who stared back at him with an unsure face.

"Can we please not argue here?" Alfred begged her and it almost was a surprise since often times, they would shamelessly have a battle of words in random streets just to prove their point and neither would be willing to back down. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Arthur looking at Alfred discouragingly and his son seemed to have gotten the message. Now that was something good. Someone finally was able to tame his loud and proud son.

But that did not mean that the argument was over.

"I'm not gonna stop until you realize how lucky you are to have Arthur!"

She had hoped that it would shut her son's mouth but the words she just said only made Alfred look at her in disbelief. "You think I don't know that? Well surprise! For the _first time_ in my life I found someone I'd actually be _willing to die for."_

Life indeed was full of surprises. She had live for 48 years, had Alfred for 21 years, and still she was feeling shocked at an unlikely moment. The way Alfred's eyes sparked, she knew that his words were truer than true.

"W-well," She breathed in and tried to regain her composure. No matter how much the man raised his voice, she was still his mother. "I don't think you understand so..."

Alfred clicked his tongue at her stubbornness but hey, that was the very trait her child inherited from her so there was no questioning it. "So I'm taking Arthur for today as _my date._ "

"What!?"

"What? Something wrong with that?"

Sandra immediately hooked her arms with Arthur who also looked shocked but not as shocked as Alfred. She mentally high-fived herself for winning.

"But mom it's our date!"

" _Was_ your date." The look on Alfred's face was priceless. It was refreshing to see him in a dumbfounded state. "But don't worry. You can come if you want to. You see, I need someone to carry my shopping bags for me and there's no way I'm letting Artie do the job." She winked and smiled wickedly.

Alfred began to stutter. Complete sentences never left his mouth as he tried to reason with her which was actually going to be futile. Sandra's smug smile had been on her face for minutes and it only destroyed her son's composure.

In the end, Alfred just had to give up.

"Well good news, mom. You can enjoy your date without me!"

_Oh fucker._

7 shopping bags later, Alfred was just elated to find a chair and sit down.

Okay, so he told them to enjoy their supposed date without him but before he even knew it, he was trailing slowly behind the two and was constantly given those damn bags full of women's stuff.

Oh my gosh he was so pissed off for many reasons. By many, he meant three.

1st, their supposed fight turned out to be real just because of that stupid Frenchman. Like, come on? Why did Arthur have to mention him of all times? The spotlight should be on the two of them alone and no supporting character was needed. Francis was not necessary, and was never going to be.

2nd would obviously be his stubborn mother. Again, it was supposed to be their _date_ and his arms should be the one hooked with the Englishman. He should be the one walking and pointing things around while laughing at something they would find funny. And he should be the only one calling Arthur 'Artie'. It was him who invented the nickname after all! Anyone who wanted to use it should ask permission from him and hear him say 'no way dude. Go fuck yourself.'

3rd, was the fact that he was acting like an envious boyfriend when he shouldn't be. Well yes, he was supposed to act like that BUT he was not supposed to _feel_ like that. In this case, he couldn't help but sometimes think that the reason why he despised Francis was because he was jealous. Then he remembered what he told his mother earlier.

Something so deep that surprised the three of them— mostly him even if did not seem like it. " _For the first time in my life I found someone I'd actually be willing to die for."_

His hands pulled his hair as the word came back ringing in his ears. Did he really say that? It could be that it was just in the heat of the moment. But when he thought about it in that way, he just did not agree with his brain! What in the name of America was going on with him? Maybe... Maybe...

Maybe he was in love with Arthur?

_Fuck no!_

His eyes widened and his hands messed his hair more. The hell was he thinking about? Just considering that idea was so wrong. So very, very wrong. He'd rather be thrown to hell at that very moment than fall in love with Arthur.

_But hey, that ain't really a bad thing. I mean, Arthur's a really great—_

He froze. There was that voice of evil trying to corrupt his mind again. It was making him insane. He was slowly losing his sanity, he was—

"Oi, is something wrong?"

He practically yelled when Arthur suddenly popped in front of him. He was too busy arguing with his thoughts that he did not even notice the Brit approaching him and crouching in front of him with 3 shopping bags in his hands.

"Dude you scared me!" He swallowed as he took the bags from Arthur's hands which he noticed—

_Damn it Jones, you're not noticing anything! Understand?_

"Yes sir!"

"What?"

He lifted his head and looked at Arthur, realizing what he just did. He immediately waved him off with a nervous laugh.

"Nothing! Nothing. I was just ya' know. Yeah. Uh huh. That's right."

"That did not make any sense."

"It wasn't supposed to."

Arthur rolled his beautiful eyes—

_Jones!_

Okay so Arthur rolled his dull eyes at him and he did not find them attractive. Nu uh. No.

"Well I'mgoing now. Your mom's in the fitting room with 6 dresses so expect another 6 bags."

When the Brit left, Alfred was once more alone to suffer alone with his not very cooperative thoughts. From a distance he could see where his other two companions were. Her mom's standing in front of a very big mirror with Arthur beside him. She held a dress in each of her hands and was probably asking the blonde Englishman which looked better. Dark blue or sky blue?

Alfred was hoping that his partner in crime would choose the lighter color. Even if he refused to acknowledge it, hi brain was thinking along the lines of 'Francis equals dark blue, Alfred equal sky blue.' He watched the blonde's fingers carefully, waiting for him to point at one of the dresses, secretly hoping he would pick...

_Sky blue._

Arthur's finger pointed at the lighter shade. Yes! Alfred threw his fist in the air and it he did not mind if people nearby sent him strange looks. What mattered was that Arthur chose him and not Francis because—

His energy level immediately flunked when he realized what he was just thinking about.

_Shit._

He needed to have a hold on himself. There was no reason to panic. His mind had always been playful and it was just another one of those times. He was bored, there was no one to talk to, and he was made to carry shopping bags against his will by his one and only mother. So his brilliant brain was just trying to help him cope up the lack of interesting activity by trying to humorous. There was no other logical explanation but that when he tried to really, really think about it.

Yeah it was just that and there was nothing to worry about.

"Alfred! We're leaving!"

When Arthur called out to him, he was more than happy to stand up and leave the place with the intention of abandoning the very unnatural ideas behind. He caught up with the two shorter blondes and was immediately handed the 6 bags that Arthur warned him about.

Sandra dragged them both to lunch at the nearest pizza and pasta restaurant they first spotted. The place was big and so were their orders. Alfred laughed at Arthur's face when the food was served. The Brit pulled on his sleeves and leaned on him which almost caught him off guard. His heart would've been racing at the sudden closeness but then Arthur just had to make him smile.

"Blimey! This could feed 6 people!"

"Nope! It could feed 2 Americans and a Brit." He tried imitating the Brit's accent as he spoke which made Arthur roll his eyes at him and make him chuckle. "Just wait till' the pasta arrives."

"What!?"

"Wot?"

He laughed again when the shorter blonde hit his arm. "Hey you two. I'm still here."

They both turned to look at Sandra. Honestly speaking, Alfred almost, just almost forgot that they had a third wheel. It may sound rude to call his mother like that but it was kind of true. He had hoped that his mother would finally leave them

alone after she complained how much her knees were hurting. He even volunteered to take her home but she only laughed at him and said, _"You're not gonna get rid of me that easy young man."_

When the pasta arrived, Arthur leaned on his arm once more and tugged his sleeve with slight worry in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" He whispered.

"I cannot finish this." The Brit whispered back as his eyes looked at his plate full of Spaghetti with one giant meatball on top.

Alfred also looked at the amount of food on the man's plate. It did not seem to be that much for him but then we were talking about Arthur here and he did not have that American blood running in his veins. They both stared at the food for about a minute as they both thought about what to do with it. Later on, Alfred found his mother looking at them with a raised brow which snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Aw don't worry babe." He cooed and put an arm around Arthur's shoulder to pull him closer beside him. He was thankful that his partner did not react and simply let him do what he just did. His shoulders did not tense up and his face remained the same but now that Alfred noticed, Arthur's cheeks were slightly tainted with pink that was probably from embarrassment and surprise for suddenly closing the inches between their arms. "I'll help you finish it."

"Thank you, love." Arthur looked up at him and smiled. Now it was his turn to be flustered but he just waved off the feeling with a contented hum and began eating. To his relief, his mother also looked contented and even happy probably with what she just witnessed.

The Brit remained in his arms as they ate and chatted. Neither whispered complaints at how their personal bubble was invaded nor how uncomfortable their positions were. Alfred did not take his arm off the other and Arthur did not do anything to free himself. Actually, he felt as if the smaller blonde liked being in his hold. Of course he was not just assuming just because of those weird thoughts he had back at the store and fuck why was he remembering it now of all times for fuck's sake he felt he was going to die any minute now just wait for it—

"Is something wrong?"

Arthur sat straight to be able to look at his face which he did not know what it looked like at the moment. The Englishman thought did not break away from his arm entirely which kind of relieved him. Their eyes met and he stared at Arthur for a few seconds before he smiled and shook his head. Outside he looked calm, collected, worry-free. Inside he was screaming, wailing, panicking, and going mad but at the same time he was cheering himself that he would survive the day.

"Nothing's wrong, Art."

"Excuse me boys. I'll just go the washroom."

Alfred mentally screamed in joy as he nodded enthusiastically and even told her mother to take her time. When she was tables away from them, they let out a sigh but still, neither moved from their position and continued to eat.

"Er, Alfred?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm so done."

He looked at Arthur's plate and it was only half finished. Not to mention that the meatball was left unharmed and lying safely at the side of the plate.

"Like, really? It tastes good!" He took his own fork and took the poor thing. Within seconds, the entire ball of meat was being murdered between his teeth and with its giant size, it produced a big lump on his cheek that Arthur just had to poke it while laughing even if he was telling him how disgusting it looked like.

"Git. You should've just eaten half of it first!"

"A real man doesn't eat half a meatball. He eats it all at once!" He tried to sound proud but his words were barely understandable due to the food inside his mouth which he was now having difficulty in chewing.

"Well that is just stupid and do not talk with your bloody mouth full!"

"Don't tell me how to live my life!"

"I cannot understand you."

"Well of course because it's hero dialect!" He laughed obnoxiously and only laughed harder when Arthur begged him to stop because one, he was attracting attention, and two—

Alfred coughed when a big lump of meat made its way down his throat without warning. Arthur did his trademark eye-roll along with a few words of 'I told you so' but the American obviously did not have time for that. He pounded his fists on his chest as his eyes turned watery. At this point, the Brit was in a slight panic mode. _Thank god!_ He was immediately handed water and after 3 glasses, the evil meatball was defeated and he finally could breath.

"Dude. Worst day of my life."

"Not for me. Best. Day. Ever."

"Fuck you."

"Well fuck you too."

They glared at each other for a moment but they ended up bursting into laughter in a few seconds. When Sandra came back, she was confused with the goofy smiles on their faces but her lips curled into a smile when she noticed how the two blonde males seemed to have scooted closer in each other's hold.

When his mother surprisingly hailed a taxi, Alfred at first became full of dread. Where on Earth was she taking them next that they needed to ride a taxi? As he loaded all the shopping bags on the back seat, he could not help but frown and hiss under his breath. They had been shopping all day and it now the sun was already setting. Also, they could have just used his car and that would be more convenient since he would be driving and Arthur would be sitting beside him in front.

He crawled out took the other bags on the ground. His mother reminded him to be careful since some of those contained fragile things. Not that he care but he rather have a peaceful journey to wherever instead of being scolded for breaking something precious.

"Where are we going?" He asked after all the items were loaded inside. Sandra turned to him from Arthur and smiled while gently pushing him in the shoulder.

"Stupid. What do you mean ' _we'?_ " She looked at Arthur then back at him. "I'm going home. If you want to come then you're free to do so though I highly doubt that."

It took him seconds to register what she just said. When he finally understood what she meant, his eyes went wide and he mentally threw his fist in the air.

"Are you serious? Like, finally?"

"After being sent deadly glares on my back from my son the whole day you think I'm joking? Are you kidding me?"

Well that was true. Aside from trying to divert his attention away from Arthur, all he did was glare at her mother's back no matter how rude it seemed.

Sandra then turned back at Arthur and gave her tight hug which almost cut the Brit's air passage. He retained the smile though after she released him and gave him a light pinch on the cheek.

"Well I'm going now Take good care of Alfie for me."

"Mom."

"Shut up sweetie." Sandra pushed him again on the shoulder. This time it had force but he did not really care. He was smiling through and through up until she went inside her ride and fled away on the streets.

They both stood there without moving up until the taxi turned on the nearest corner. Alfred's eyes were beaming and his smile only grew wider. He did not even notice that the reason why he was happy was that he could have all of his British companion's attention.

"What now?" Arthur asked and his head turned to face him.

"Well we're not going home." He answered in a tone that obviously told the Englishman that he did not have a choice. "Not yet, babe."

"Then what do you suggest we do?" Arthur nudged him on the arm with a playful smirk and he just had to return it. He grinned, looked up the dark sky and pretended to think, then leaned down with his lips aligned on the other's ear to whisper.

"I suggest we have some _fun._ "

Arthur's head turned and their eyes met. It took Alfred by surprise and he his body froze on the spot. He hoped that the Brit also felt tensed but judging from the grin on the other's face, it was clear as day that he was the only one feeling flustered and that was bad. Very bad.

When Arthur laughed and pushed him away, that was the only time he felt oxygen reach his lungs once again. He tried to laugh as well even if it sounded forced. It was better than to be caught acting weird. Arthur may suddenly entertain the same ideas he was having about himself. If the Brit suddenly thought he was turning gay (not that he was as far as he was concerned), he had no idea what to do.

"Come along now." Arthur began to walk ahead of him. "Your car's parked at the other side right?"

"Um, yeah."

He quickly followed and walked beside the shorter man. At first, they both did not say anything and it made Alfred extremely uncomfortable. The silence always made the American think of ridiculous things like being gay and in love and shit about the Brit beside him. He would look at Arthur occasionally from the corner of his eyes and seeing the small smile on the other's face relieved him. At least his companion was silent not because he was bad company. Arthur just appreciated the moment where no words were needed.

It was different for him. Very different since all those thoughts from before lurked at the back of his mind and he could not seem to get rid of them. He tried to cast his eyes on different stuff they pass at but after a few minutes, he was back to thinking about those _stuff._

He should relax. Geez. He was over thinking, over reacting. Maybe it was just a normal phase. His relationship with Arthur was not normal from the very start. Aside from being friends which just came later on, he hired Arthur to be his pretend boyfriend. Maybe all of what happened in those 2 months were just getting in his head?

He sighed and tilted his head to look at the sky. It was sunset and the color's blue and orange were fighting. He thought, of course the blue would win. It always did because tomorrow still existed.

"Blue always wins."

"What?"

Did he say that out loud?

When he turned, Arthur was already looking at him. He stared back and did not answer the question so instead, the Brit stopped walking and looked up at the sky just like what he did.

"Blue always wins? I agree with that."

The Brit smiled and looked at him before they started walking again. His heart skipped a beat and he felt elated when Arthur said those words. It somehow uplifted him. He remembered when Arthur told him that it was his favorite color but he really did not get to know why. He mentally hissed at the memory of Francis asking him if he knew the reason why Arthur liked blue and it pissed him off that he did not know the answer to it.

"Why do you like blue?" It did not take a long while for the other to answer.

"It's comforting." He paused. "It gives off a sense of freedom and that's just nice."

My god why was his heart beating so fast? Seeing Arthur smile like that, did he really have to ask?

"I see." He nodded his head and appeared calm even if hands were curled into a ball inside his pockets as he tried to keep himself collected. "What else do you like?"

"Hm? Well..." Arthur looked in down as he tried to think and Alfred kept a note that said ' _Arthur looks down when he's thinking.'_ Hah! He bet Francis did not know that or hell be damned he was going on a murder spree. "I like tea, mint, scones, blueberries, strawberries, pancakes, and waffles."

"And you tell me I eat too much."

"Git. I do not eat them all at once." He rolled his eyes and Alfred laughed.

"Whatever. How about tell me something other than food or else I'm not convinced."

"Alright then!" Like Alfred had guessed, Arthur looked down. "I like children."

"Pedophile!"

"Fuck you that's not what I meant!"The Brit tried to kick his leg but he easily dodged it which made the other hiss.

"I'm joking. Geez old man." He slowly recovered from laughing and contemplated on the Brit's answer. So he liked children huh? That was adorab—impressive. That was impressive. "So you like children."

"Yeah. I actually wanted to have at least 5 sons or daughters."

"Like, really? Me too! I've always wanted a basketball team."

He cheered, suddenly feeling relaxed as their conversation grew. It made him giddy that they both wanted the same number of kids! Arthur seemed to be the kind of person who would settle for a child or two. Wanting to have 5 was unexpected. Imagine him and Arthur raising a basketball team. That was just too awesome. Like in the morning, the Brit would be the first to wake up and can you imagine how hard it would be to drag 5 boys and a husband out of bed? Or to make them take a bath after a whole day practice?

"Man, you'd make a good wife!"

"I'm not a girl."

"I don't mind."

"What?"

"What?"

 _Oh_ _shit._

What on Earth did he just picture? Arthur as his lovely wife? Pfft come on American brain, the pranks were not funny anymore and it scared him to shit's end.

He stared at Arthur for a while before he tried his best to burst out laughing. Thank god for his awesome acting skills or else it would have been very awkward and weird and disturbing to a point that he would greet death with open arms.

Arthur only rolled his eyes at him and did not say anything and the moment his laughter died down, they were both once again enveloped by silence. Comforting silence for the Brit, bone-crushing silence for Alfred that his sanity was becoming unstable. The thoughts from the whole fucking day were beginning to spin around his head, singing and prancing about in his brain that it almost drove him mad.

_My god, what was that about?_

_Maybe he really was beginning to fall—_

_Complete that sentence and it will be the end of you Jones._

It looked like someone's not going to be able to sleep tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not even realize how long it was until I saw how many words there were. Too much inspiration lolol. Though the ending's a bit rushed.  
> Yeeey! Finally it hit Alfred's head! We'll now see how he's going to deal with it. Wooo!  
> Next chapter:
> 
> "Doctor, I think I'm sick."
> 
> The reviews were AWESOME! Thank you!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO THIS IS THE LOOOONGEST CHAPTER SO FAR. I did not even realize I was able to beat my record which was the previous chapter.

It was already past 11 in the evening and Arthur's eyes were still wide open and staring at his wall clock as the minute hand made another whole round. He sighed and turned to face the wall, clueless as to why he was unable to sleep. Normally, he'd slip off to dreamland in an instant as the stress from a tiresome day would wash over him and knock him out. Surely, that day was one among those days as he was forced from one shop to another by the one and only mother of his 'employer.'

He snorted at the thought of giving Alfred such a title. It was true that he was hired by the American and the only reason why they were together was he was being paid to play pretend. But honestly speaking, their relationship developed farther away from being just 'employer' and 'employee'. They drifted so close to each other, enough for him to consider Alfred as a very dear friend he'd take a bullet for.

Now that he thought him, that stupid man acted quite strange on their way to his home. He could not figure when exactly Alfred began to act err, how should he put it, not the beaming boy he usually was?

Arthur wasn't just jumping to assumptions. He knew that everyone had their own bitchy days. That afternoon however, held no sign for Alfred to act like a cold, stuck up man the Brit was usually teased for. It was just that, the taller blonde suddenly went silent. Not a word escaped his mouth from the few minutes before they reached his car, until he was dropped off safely in front of his house. Usually, Alfred would insist to stay for a while and say a quick hello to Peter. But that time, there was nothing. Not a wave, not a smile, not even a glance.

He dismissed it at first. Maybe a miracle happened and Alfred for the first time felt weary and was not in the mood after being harassed by his mother. But no matter how Arthur tried to convince himself that that indeed was the reason, something at the back of his mind strongly disagreed.

Maybe he had done something wrong? Said something foul and stepped on a land mine? He replayed the events of the day almost perfectly in his mind. Every word, every gesture he analyzed carefully. In the end though, he came up with nothing.

With an irritated grunt, he rolled on his stomach and buried his cheek on the pillow as he let his thoughts flow.

Admittedly, he was worried about Alfred. Like what was pointed out earlier, he would take a bullet for the lad and he was sure that the same would be done for him as well. Especially after the American stated he'd be willing to die for his sake. He could still remember the words clearly, _'For the first time in my life, I found someone I'd actually be willing to die for.'_

Okay so maybe Alfred exaggerated the delivery a bit as it was necessary but damn. Just replaying that particular scene was making him feel so, so... Bloody hell he could not figure it out. Embarrassed? Flustered? Overwhelmed? All of the above? And for the next question, why? He buried his face on the pillow while trying to keep that moment from running over and over again in his brain.

_Bloody git._

After feeling a little uncomfortable with his breathing, he turned around and laid on his back as his eyes were pinned on the dull ceiling. He was thinking too much and it was doing him no good. So he quickly dismissed everything he came up with and tried to think about something else. Then as if his phone was able to read his mind, it suddenly lit up and vibrated which caught Arthur's attention.

Francis' name flashed brightly on the screen. His brows curved up as he wondered what in the world did his frog friend wanted late at night. Nonetheless, he read the message without much questioning.

' _Hello mon'lapin. Are you still awake?'_

Arthur rolled his eyes. Now that was a stupid question to ask.

' _I was. Now thanks to you, I'm awake.'_ He lied just to hit the other with a little bit of guilt. He hummed contentedly as he lied down and waited for the frog's reply.

' _Desole Arthur~'_ Bloody hell he could feel the Frenchman purr his name out and that was completely disturbing. _'You can go back to sleep now. Sweet dreams mon lapin.'_

' _I was joking. I'm awake the whole time.'_

' _That was mean. '_

Arthur glared at the emoticon at the end of the text.' _I'm_ _always_ _mean._ _Now_ _what_ _do_ _you_ _want_ _at_ _this_ _hour?'_

' _I_ _just_ _want_ _to_ _ask_ _if_ _you're free_ _tomorrow.'_

' _I have a whole day shift.'_

' _How about after your shift?'_

His thumb stopped in the middle of typing 'yes' on his phone. He tried to remember if there was anything scheduled for tomorrow after his work. Did he and Alfred make any plans? As far as he was concerned there was nothing. But what if the American suddenly showed up in his work place and grab him to do this and that like he always did? Goodness, that was the reason why Arthur decided not to make any appointments with anyone unless very important.

' _I still don't know.'_ He answered truthfully.

' _Can I not have that time of your day reserved for me?'_

Francis hadn't always been this pushy and Arthur was starting to wonder if something was up.

' _You're being persistent. Is there something wrong?'_

' _I have something important to tell you...'_

' _Can you not tell me through phone call?'_

' _No.'_

Arthur bit his lip. Something definitely was going on for Francis to act so serious. Their messages did not contain the usual, casual exchange of insults and it just did not right for him. Maybe Francis had something weighing his shoulders, stressing him out enough to send a message late in the evening. As much as he wanted to promise his time though, he could not help but think about Alfred and his surprise schedules.

' _I'm still unsure, Francis. I'll just give you a ring tomorrow. Would that be alright?'_

' _Oui, mon lapin. Merci.'_

With that, he let another sigh escape his mouth as he places his phone back at the bedside table together some of his other stuff. He turned his head and checked the time. The hands of the clock all stood perfectly aligned as they pointed on 12. It was already midnight and Arthur was just thankful to suddenly feel a yawn coming up. Even without anyone seeing him, he made an effort to cover his mouth.

Then just before he closed his eyes, he suddenly thought about texting Alfred. He still was bothered about the lad's earlier behaviour. Also, asking about the next day's events would be a good excuse to send him a message in the middle of the night. He could just tell him that Francis needed an answer ASAP if Alfred got pissed.

Convinced with his poorly thought plan (which he wouldn't have considered if it were any other normal day), he reached for his phone once more and began typing the message.

' _Hey Alfred. Sorry to disturb you but do we have anything for tomorrow?'_ He quickly hit send before he could even decide against it.

The phone rested beside Arthur's pillow as the Brit waited for a reply. Usually, Alfred was quick in answering his messages even on the rare times where he would send something late at night. He was also confident that the American was still up since he had some video games to keep him awake.

As the minutes passed, he felt a little disappointed for not getting an answer. Alfred sure was taking his time. Maybe he was too engrossed with one of his stupid games and failed to notice Arthur's message? But the Brit decided to give it a few more minutes.

However, the few minutes gradually turned into hours and Arthur immediately fell asleep waiting.

* * *

Alfred's eyes were killing him. They felt so heavy and tired and weary and everything that had the same meaning. The sun was up and the rays that managed to enter in between the blinds on his window were trying to stress him out more. With a grunt, he sat up and turned away from the sunlight.

His mind was a mess. No straight thoughts were forming and everything was just blank and dull. His eyes wandered all around his room, trying to focus on something or remember what he always did when he woke up. Though in his current case, he did not wake up or anything since he never did fall asleep in the first place.

With a soft 'shit' from his chapped lips, he let gravity pull him back on his bed and maybe for the first time in twenty four hours, his eyes finally felt like closing.

But only for a few minutes.

His lids shot open before he could even stop them which made him curse under his breath. He tossed and turned until he felt comfortable on his stomach. His head turned towards the empty, messy space he called his room and from the corner of his eyes, he could see his phone. He remembered receiving a message from Arthur that night but because of obvious reasons (such as trying to convince himself he wasn't gay for him), he did not bother reading it and the message was completely ignored.

But now he was thinking a bit straighter than last night. The emotions that took over him, thought not entirely gone, have calmed down which made his brain free to function well once again.

He stretched his arm and reached for his phone. The light from the screen made him squint but he quickly adjusted only to be greeted by his beautiful lock screen: A stolen picture of a sleeping Arthur.

_Oh my god._

Before he could even return to his panic mode, he held his grip on his phone firmly to prevent himself from throwing it away. He immediately brushed his finger and entered his password to get rid of the image only to be greeted by another one. This time, it was a picture of him smiling brightly beside Arthur who was once again, sleeping (on the passenger seat in his car.)

Okay so he got to admit that he was kind of enjoyed the sight of a certain sleeping British man but hey that was it. Really, that was it. He was the type to make fun of people and so taking a picture of Arthur sleeping was completely, utterly, undeniably normal.

_Fuuuuuuck!_

He shook his head and proceeded to read the message.

' _Hey Alfred. Sorry to disturb you but do we have anything for tomorrow?'_

To be honest, he had planned something for today. He was going to invite Arthur to watch a movie with him. A new Asian horror movie he just downloaded from torrent. But after a lot of thinking last night, he came up with a decision and that was,

' _Stay away from Arthur.'_

Then he quickly added, ' _But only for a short, short, while!_

So with a heavy heart and a little pang of guilt, he quickly typed 'none'. Before he could even send it though, he erased what he typed and changed it to 'yeah'. After a while of staring, he found himself deleting the text once again.

In the end, he was not able to send Arthur a reply since confusion and fear were able to take over him. He changed his screen lock to Captain America's shield and his wallpaper to Scarlett Johansson in hopes of trying to save whatever that was left of his manliness (not that it was diminishing or anything according to his belief).

He felt threatened in so many ways and it was causing him to not think _straight_ —pun intended— which was very bad.

Everything that he said about acting, thinking, and feeling normal towards Arthur, he was taking them back because god damn if he wanted to solve his problem, he needed to accept them. The teasing, random sweet thoughts, nicknames, pictures, imaginations, and daydreams which concerned the green-eyed man were far from normal. There was something, dare he say it, _wrong_ about what was going on with him.

Even if it was hard to accept it, he had to consider questioning his sexuality. But then there was also the possibility that he was just going through a phase that psychological reasoning could explain.

Of course, Alfred settled for the latter and immediately made up his mind.

With a mighty yawn and a bit of stumbling, he tried his best to get ready and look good despite the scornful bags under his eyes. His spectacles did only little to cover the stress. He paced around his messy, spacious unit while picking up a few things here and there, his phone the last to be fetched. With a black, fitted V-neck on, not so tight jeans, and Vans, he marched his way out and into the driveway, ready to consult a doctor for the first time in many years.

"Is something the matter?"Arthur turned his head towards the owner of the voice. It was Elizabetha and she looked slightly concerned about him and he knew the reason why. "You've been checking your phone every minute. Did something happen?"

He stared back at her for a moment as the answers to her question flooded his mind. Did something happen? Arthur had no idea but he felt as if indeed there was something going on and it annoyed him to an extent. That stupid American brat was really starting to get in his nerves by making him worry. Should he be worrying about that man in the first place?

His fingers hugged his phone tighter as he took a deep breath in before relaxing back and breathing out a sigh. Then with a calm looking exterior, he smiled fondly at his workmate and shook his head.

"Nothing's happened. No worries."

Elizabetha looked at him with obvious doubt but knew better than to push her curiosity. She did not want to stress the Brit out too much. Arthur already had too many worries and responsibilities, all she could do was understand and somewhat admire.

"Whatever you say." She shrugged and continued arranging the orders on her tray with utmost care. When her back was turned against him, Arthur's smile immediately fell. His eyes were glued back on his phone, hoping for it to light up and ring. He looked at it dejectedly and with a click of his tongue, he placed it back on his trouser's pocket and continued back to work as if nothing was weighing on his mind.

Clinics were one of the places Alfred would not visit if could help it. The fact that he was there, sitting beside emotionally unstable men and women, meant that he was in bit of a bind. He would not call himself desperate yet though (take note, _yet)_ and he refused to reach that level. That was why he was there, waiting along with the others for his name to be called.

For the first few minutes he was there, he found himself bored in an instant. Bored and feeling heavy. He knew very well why. His hand crawled inside the pocket of his jeans and held his phone but had second thoughts about pulling it out. He still felt guilty about ignoring Arthur's message and to be honest, he wanted to answer him so bad. If he could just push all his doubts about himself behind his back and worry about it another day he would have. But he had to know his priorities.

"Alfred Franklin Jones?"

He abruptly stood from his seat when his name was called. His hand let go of his phone as he let the nurse lead him towards to where the doctor was. They arrived at a boring door and just as he expected, he was ushered towards an equally boring room where a boring- looking doctor sat behind a glass table filled with pens, papers, and whatever. If there was anything that he found amusing about the person on the other side of the room, it was that he was Asian.

The Asian doctor motioned for him to sit down on the sit across him which he hesitantly took. It wasn't like he was afraid of consultations. He just felt unsure about what he was about to do. Maybe taking his problem to a psychiatrist was a bit over?

"Good morning, Doc." He smiled a little and shook the other's hand as it was extended towards him. He sat down afterwards and tried to make himself comfortable on his seat but quickly figured out it was imposible.

"Good morning as well, Mr. Jones. My name's Honda Kiku. You can call me Doctor Honda or Mr. Honda, whichever you prefer." Alfred nodded his head indicating he understood him. "Before we start this session, I would like you to know that there is absolutely no need for you to feel—"

"Um Honda? Mr. Honda right?" Alfred scratched the back of his neck while he interrupted the doctor. "Look. I'm not like, a psycho or anything or like, a child or anything. There's really no need for some comfort uh, talk and something. You know, like what you just did."

The doctor looked at him in mild surprise not because of what he tried to clear but because he was cut off unnecessarily (and rudely if he had to add). Nonetheless, being in that profession for quite a time, he had learned to just accept anything a patient would say and so he simply nodded his head.

"Very well then Mr. Jones. Straight to the point, what brings you here?"

Alfred felt a chill run up his spine. His throat felt dry and his lips seemed to have been glued together by an unseen force. He had no idea how to tell the other about his concern.

"Are you sure you don't need my comforting words?" Oh he could hear very well the mockery from the Japanese doctor's words. That neutral expression was not really doing a good job at hiding it. Obviously, he was able to push a button with what he said to the other earlier.

"You see, the thing is," He trailed off and took a deep breath before meeting the other man's eyes and looking at them intently. "Doctor, I think I'm sick."

Doctor Honda sighed audibly as he leaned forward, his elbows rested on the table and his own fingers intertwined. "You think? Why is that?"

"I think I have this uh, dependent disorder thingy." The Japanese man nodded his head and urged Alfred to continue. "Coz you know, I've been very clingy to someone." He paused again and rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of how to continue what he was saying. "Um, I've been feeling weird all in all."

"Weird?"

"Yeah. Weird like, you see, this person I've wanted to always be with— Oh my god did I just say that? Oh my god!" His voice raised which surprised Doctor Honda once more. "Oh shit this is what I'm trying to say! Just thinking about him— god! Just thinking about him is driving me nuts!"

"I-I can see that Mr. Jones."

"No! You don't understand!" Alfred looked at Doctor Honda with hopeless eyes. "It's not like I hate this person or anything. Like I said earlier, it just feels right to be by his side and it's kinda addicting to just be standing there or sitting there with him and talking to him and hearing him laugh and shit like that. And this! Thinking like this is making me insane! The thing is, I'm not supposed to feel like this! I think, I think I've been with him too much and, and, and—"

"Is this person, who I'm guessing is a boy, is he your best friend or the like?" Alfred shook his head and slumped on the table between him and the doctor.

"I don't think I can be considered his best friend. I only know so little about him like his favorite color and some mannerisms like eye rolling and tongue clicking and stuff." Then with a huff, he straightened up, crossed his arms and muttered under his breath. "That damn Francis is claiming the title though but then it wasn't enough."

"Francis?"

"Yeah! That bastard Frenchie. He's totally in love with Arthur. I hate him." His lips were in a straight, unwavering line but only for so long. Alfred's face twisted into that of someone who was slapped back to reality as he melted once more on the table. "And the thing is doc, I'm not supposed to hate him. Not for that reason anyway. You know what? I think I developed some kind of an over-protective disorder. Is there such a thing?"

Kiku Honda did not bother answering the question. Instead, he leaned back on his seat and looked at the hopeless American in front of him. He bit his lip as he thought about what to say that would not cause any unnecessary voice raising and shouting and panicking as Alfred Jones seemed to be completely capable of doing all those things all at once.

He knew very well what was wrong with his patient and judging by the way Alfred dealt with the problem, breaking the news was not going to be smooth and easy.

"Mr. Jones, please answer this." Alfred looked at Honda and raised a brow. "What is it exactly that you're scared of?"

"I'm not scared of anything."

"After hearing you pour your heart out, I think you are."

"I don't get you."

The Japanese man's eyes wandered away for a moment as he thought of a different approach. One that the proud man across him would understand and answer truthfully.

"You think you've been too attached to this 'Arthur' and it's making you think weird thoughts, am I correct?" He was pleased when Alfred nodded. "What thoughts exactly? What did you think about?"

"Oh come on! Do I really have to answer that?" Alfred clicked his tongue when the doctor nodded firmly. "Okay I'll tell one. Just one! Alright?"

"Alright."

"And it's gonna be a secret between us, alright?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Good." Alfred took a deep breath in as he leaned closer, even beckoning the other man to do the same as he somewhat, whispered what the doctor wanted to hear. "I kinda imagined him as my wife, yesterday. Not that it's a bad thing but it is... Um, yeah. I'm only telling ya' that one."

Honda nodded his head and they both sat up straight once more.

"So doctor, do you know what's wrong with me? Am I sick or anything?"

"You're not sick Mr. Jones. And there's nothing wrong with you."

"What!? But there's gotta be—" Alfred was cut off by a hand on his face.

"I'm not finished talking. Can I please continue?" He nodded his head and kept silent. "Very well. I'm going to tell you what I suppose you are going through right now. But please, after I say it, no violent reactions and no shouting."

Alfred nodded his head once again and as much as the Japanese man doubted the American would be able to keep his promise, he decided to tell him anyway since there wasn't much of a choice.

"Mr. Alfred Jones, you are without a doubt, _in love._ "

"WHAT!?"

Dear me, Doctor Honda Kiku knew what was coming.

Alfred stood up in shock and disbelief that his chair almost flew towards the other side of the room. His hands were firmly placed on top of the glass table and the doctor in front of him feared that a little more force from him could break it and shatter it into pieces. But hey, after what he just heard, did Honda Kiku really think he could calm down?

"What are you saying? Don't shit with me alright! I can't be in love with Arthur!"

"Why is that?"

"He's a man! For godsake he's a fucking guy with a dick! And surprise! I also have one for myself right in between my legs! Now you ask me why I can't be in love with Artie!? Really?"

"I don't see anything wrong with that."

"Everything's wrong with that!"

"It's only because you believe it's wrong but the truth is it's not."

"But I'm not gay!"

"Now you are."

"Goddammit Kiku! Stop messing with me!" The Japanese man flinched as the formalities were dropped just like that.

"I'm sorry Mr. Jones but that is the truth."

"It's not! You're lying! You're—"

Saved by the bell as the saying goes. Alfred's words died in an instant when his phone suddenly rang. It's annoying ringing replaced the shouts of the American much to the Japanese doctor's relief. His fingers quickly dug into his pocket to get his phone. When he saw the name flashing brightly on the screen, his face went from rage mode to panic mode.

"Holy fuck it's Arthur! Arthur's calling! Oh my god Kiku what should I do?"

"I think you should answer the call, Mr. Jones."

"But—" The dark-haired man looked at him coldly.

Alfred looked back at his phone, cleared his throat a number of times and tried to look composed even if he knew that the Brit on the other end wouldn't see him. When he felt better, he brought the phone to his ear.

"Um, hey Artie. Wassup?"

" _Hello Alfred. Er_ ," He heard a bit of shuffling at the end of the line. " _Did you receive my message last night?"_

"M-message? W-w-what m-message?" He forced a small laugh and feigned innocence. The guilt was eating him alive though.

" _Oh so you didn't? Thank goodness, I thought you were— Erm, I-I guess I just had some network problems"_ Arthur sighed _."Nevermind then."_

He heard some more shuffling on Arthur's side and was that Gilbert's obnoxious laugh in the background? It was followed by the sound of a frying pan landing on someone's face and Arthur hissed after it. Alfred smiled. There probably was a bit of the usual chaos in the kitchen and the Brit was obviously pissed about the noise. Arthur was definitely wearing a scowl right now.

" _Hello, Alfred? Are you still there?_ "

"Yup!"

" _You were quiet. I thought I lost you._ " His heart skipped a beat after hearing those words. He was oblivious to the hopeless sighs from the Japanese man beside him after seeing his face turn bright red.

"I'm here. I'm uh, always here ya'know."

" _I know._ " Badump. Badump. Badump. " _Well anyway, I just wanted to ask if we have anything for er, later after work. I mean, It's not that I'm expecting or anything._ "

Alfred bit his lip. He indeed had thought of something they could do today but he decided to put it off for some other time since he had some... problem to deal with. But could he say no?

The American shook himself back into thinking straight. He _should_ say no. "We've got nothing today, Artie."

" _Oh. Alright then._ " He heard some more noise in the background. Again, the sounds of frying pans and some laughter, some order being shouted, and then there was Arthur's soft voice. Alfred pressed his ear to his phone in an attempt to hear what the Brit was saying clearly. He seemed to be talking with someone else.

" _We're free to go, frog face._ "

Alfred froze. Did Arthur just say— Holy shit was Francis with Arthur right now? "Arthur? Is Francis with you?"

" _Hm? Yes he is. Why?_ "

"You goin' somewhere with him? Is that why you're asking?"

" _Yes. Is there something wrong?_ "

Hell yeah there is something wrong! Alfred gripped his phone tighter as his face contorted into that of an angry one. The way he looked, it was no joke. The doctor beside him even shivered at the sudden change in his aura.

"Wait for me. I'm coming."

" _What? Why?_ "

"Change of plans. We've got something today."

" _But I thought—_ "

"Didn't ya hear me!?" Alfred's voice grew firmer. "Cancel whatever it is you're having with Francis. We're leaving somewhere. Don't ask." Before he heard anything more, he hung up and let his arm fall down to his side.

When he heard the sound of a creaking chair beside him, he remembered that he still was in the presence of another human being. Said human was looking at him with a smile and it was not helping him calm down.

"What is it?"

"I thought you weren't in love?"

"I'm not! It's just that Arthur is with Francis."

"And?"

"And Arthur needs me."

"Because?"

"Because he doesn't need Francis. He needs me."

"And you're not in love?"

"No, I am not." Alfred shoved his phone back in his pocket. "I am not because I can't be. Damn it Kiku, do I have to repeat myself?"

The Japanese man shook his head and simply let a tired breath escape his mouth.

"Well then Mr. Jones, if that's what you believe then I'm wishing you the best of luck." Honda Kiku smiled at him amusingly. "You may go now."

Alfred did not even spare a few seconds to return the pleasant goodbye that was sent his way. Without wasting any time, he bolted out the room and ran along the white corridors with a few people's eyes following him until he disappeared in a corner. After all, there only was one thing in his mind right now and that was to _save_ Arthur from the hands of a Frenchman whom he disliked from the bottom of his heart.

As for the man he had left alone in between the white walls of the a boring room, he smiled to himself knowing that Jones would be back sometime in the future to tell him how right he was and he would be thanking him for the little effort he made to make the American realize what he was missing.

" _Because Alfred F. Jones was indeed in love."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyaheyaheyaheya~
> 
> Kiku's finally in! Don't worry cause he's not just a passer by. We owe him bigtime after all for what he did. Hurr durr. Also, for those who are wondering where the hell is Matthew Williams, no worries my dearies because he'll be here any moment, any chapter. I've got it all planned. Tada! We'll be getting more of Ashley too. Tsk tsk.  
> Well, another long chapter. I really got'em ideas coming. But you guys deserve this because you are awesome readers. I mean that. So thank you! Really, thanks guys.  
> Just a little more for Alfred. Let's push this! Puuush!


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just learned that blond- male, blonde- female. Um, yowzah?

With every proud step she made, Ashley's heels shamelessly disturbed the peaceful corridor for every click and clack she made just by walking. People glanced her way with either a raised brow or scowl and she professionally ignored them all. In fact, the nerve of those people! She was high kind of life form and should be treated as such. If only she had the time to reprimand them, she would have. But she had more important things to attend to.

One of them was paying another visit to the French man whom she owned the goddess-like body she had now.

Upon reaching an all too familiar door, she swung it open without even bothering to knock. Whatever was going on behind the walls was none of her concern. Damn the other clients, and damn the assistant behind the desk. She came there for Francis Bonnefoy and she was to be prioritized.

"I'm sorry but he's out."

Okay, so that completely ruined her plans for the day. The assistant looked at her with uncertain eyes and she appreciated her effect on her. With an intimidating look, the fake-boobed woman leaned forward and spoke in the most serious tone she could.

"Then call him up and tell him to hurry."

"But he's not working today ma'am." The girl on the other side of the desk bit her lip, afraid of what kind of reaction Ashley was going to make.

"What!? Why?"

"He did not state the reason." When Ashley looked at her in disbelief, she quickly recommended the other surgeon on duty but the girl's words immediately were thrown to trash.

"Well then, tell Francis I dropped by. And also, tell him he's a huge asshole."

"Yes ma'am."

Satisfied with the way the girl nodded her head frantically, Ashley grinned and made her way out as she wondered, where in the world the Frenchman could be. Oh she had lots of ideas and the very first was maybe Francis was at home having sex. It could also be that Francis was at someone else's home doing the same thing.

Or maybe, Francis was with Arthur Kirkland while desperately trying to get the Englishman in bed.

If so, then that wasn't so bad. At least, part of her work was being done. Still, she preferred an alliance with him to ensure a successful outcome. Francis was just too proud and stubborn and being an asshole to her. If only he realized how great their team up would be.

She walked a bit absent-mindedly as plans began to take over her brain once more. Heavy, quick footsteps managed to distract her though. Her head turned automatically and for a moment, everything she had been thinking about was drained and forgotten as she was greeted by the one and only man her brilliant, evil plans was for.

"Alfred?"

The blond barely noticed her as he passed her by but Ashley was not letting go of the chance. Immediately, she captured Alfred's arm and held them firmly to stop the man from running. He looked at her with a frustrated, irritated look but she did not seem to be bothered by it.

"Oh my gosh! What a coincidence!"

"Hey! Hands off!"

"Come one Alfie! It's not every day this kind of thing happens!"

"And I'm thankful for it. Now if you'll excuse me—" He felt the American try to pull his arm away but she quickly had her other hand seize his arm in her hold.

"No way! We just started talking!"

"I'm in a hurry! Arthur's waiting for me you know!" With one strong pull, Alfred regained his arm's freedom and he did not seem to care if Ashley almost stumbled because of his strength. Before she could snake her whole body to him, Alfred ran off at a ridiculously impossible pace and she could only watch as he disappeared in one swift turn around the corner.

Now, one would think that her part for the day was already over. But it was her that was there and it only made sense that she was not going to give up right away just because a man withdrew from her touch.

He found herself running to catch up to him. Oh he was going to follow him everywhere even in the peak of the mountain. Besides, he was going to see Arthur. How about destroy their time together by her presence?

"He hung up."

Arthur looked at his phone with a defeated sigh. His peaceful working hours were going to be shaken up once more and the teases from his workmates were definitely going to intensify. If Alfred really meant what he just said (and he doubted that the lad would be lying), it would be the second time he was going to try and keep his two friends from capturing the other's attention. The first time went well, but who knew what was going to happen now. Alfred seemed agitated and Francis was smiling devilishly. Something was definitely going to happen.

"He should be on his way now." Francis cooed beside him. "Don't worry Arthur. It's not like I don't get along with Jones. We're friends, remember?"

The Brit could only roll his eyes before finally leaving Francis alone in the staff room. He was best being kept there rather than out in the public.

And so he went on with his day like the usual. He hopped from table to table, took orders and delivered them here and there, entertained some minor complaints and requests, and had small arguments between some other staff behind the walls that separated them from the others. If there was one thing that seemed off, it was the fact that the American kept on lingering on his mind.

Alfred was going to come and it seemed that the obnoxious blond had some plans prepared. If someone would ask him if he was excited, the answer would be an unsure yes but a yes nonetheless. This was one of the moments the Brit had foreseen and prepared for. Alfred loved making rash decisions and he was pretty pushy if he wanted something done. Like a child, he would tell him over and over again.

But at the moment, he was uncertain if he would tolerate that kind of behaviour for today. He made a promise to Francis, telling the man that they were free to go after work. The American just had to get in the scene. Not that he did not like it, it was just that the timing was off. He was not showing favouritism or the like, it was just that he did not like breaking promises. Deep inside though, he cannot imagine himself turning Alfred down.

Alfred would most definitely pout, widen his eyes and make them all glossy and shiny and irresistible. He would tug at Arthur's sleeves for as long as he could until the Brit agreed to entertain him. If that did not work, the bespectacled man would try on different antics just to get a yes out of the Englishman's lips. More often than not, the outcome would be in Alfred's favor.

So much thinking had been going on that he did not even realize time to suddenly speed up and bring Alfred on his workplace in an instant. As he was serving orders, his attention was called and was informed that his ' _boyfriend'_ had arrived and seemed to be having a heated conversation with his frog-faced friend.

His heart raced when he the word 'heated' entered his ears.

Immediately he dropped everything he was doing and was on his feet. Bloody hell he really felt something bad was going to happen. As he neared the staff's break room, he could already hear two distinct accents exchanging aggressive tones and his fears were undeniably proved right. Arthur's workmates were also staring unsurely at the door, wondering what could have happened for a fight to suddenly erupt.

With an irritated huff, he pushed the door open and to his relief, Alfred and Francis shut their mouths upon seeing him. The French frog even managed to smile at his direction. As for the other man across the room, his eyes refused to meet Arthur's, looking at another direction when the Brit tried to glare at him.

"In case you two didn't know, your voices can be heard right through that bloody door." Arthur pointed with his thumb as he spoke with a bored tone. "Now, what the hell is going on?"

Both men in question did not answer at first. Francis' eyes immediately flew away from the Englishman by door and went to follow Alfred's lead. It obviously frustrated Arthur even more and his patience for them was burning short.

Fortunately, Alfred spoke up before he snapped at them.

Unfortunately, what he said did not help lighten up the intense aura inside in between the four corners of the room.

"Are you done yet? Coz we really need to go now." The American brought his wrist up to his chest to glance at his watch, justifying his words. Arthur however, raised a brow at him.

"But I can't come with you."

"And why the fuck not?"

A nerve almost popped in his head after being snarled at by Alfred. Though it took him by surprise since the man never spoke that way to him nor to anyone before, Arthur got a grip of himself and just let out the heavy air in his lungs through his nostrils. When he was about to speak, Francis answered the question for him.

"Because he's coming with me." As if to piss the bespectacled man more, he smiled and looked at the Brit. "Right mon lapin?"

Much to Francis' disappointment, Arthur chose not to answer him.

"He's not coming with you, shit face." Alfred spat and of course, the long-haired blond did not appreciate the insult thus, another battle of name calling began. Though it was much quieter than their previous bickering, the once again ignored British man by the door felt a head ache coming.

So that was what it was all about. Not that he was flattering himself but the two stupid men before him were fighting for, well, him. What a petty reason if someone were to ask him but it seemed to matter greatly for the idiots.

He glanced at the two while he tried to figure out how to deal with the situation. He promised Francis that he would have dinner with him. Alfred on the other hand suddenly came up with something and was insistent on bringing Arthur with him. Even if he did not made any promises with Alfred, the Brit found it hard to deny the American.

Decisions, decisions. It was strangling him to death.

Going with Francis was the right thing to do. Rejecting Alfred felt oh so very wrong for reasons that bothered him. Whatever they were, he was going to deal with them later and we have yet to figure out.

The fight was beginning to get in his nerves. Dear god just what was up with the two to suddenly compete for attention? Weren't they good friends? Possibly even best friends in the future according to them and they seemed proud of it. And now because of him they were trying to anger each other more.

So Arthur decided after a lot of thinking which he magically did with just a few minutes. To go with the right thing to do or to go with what felt right? He chose neither.

"I'mcoming with no one."

Just like he thought, it effectively caught the bickering pair's attention. Their heads spun towards him with their faces contorted with confusion.

"What did you just say?" Alfred's voice shook.

"But you promised me, mon cher." Francis' eyes looked at him desperately.

"Maybe if you two were clever enough to figure out that fighting would not make me agree to anything," He scolded which made the other two look down on the floor like children being reprimanded. "I think I wouldn't have to reject you both."

"But you promised..." Francis trailed off and with the way he sounded so defeated made Arthur feel like a douche.

"I'm keeping it, frog. Just not today." He stated which effectively brought back Francis' smile in an instant. However, it only made Alfred's tantrum worse.

"So you're going out with him and not with me?" The American burst out.

"Alfred, I did not promise you anything."

"But that should be like, automatic!" Alfred argued. "I'm your uh, y-your b-boyfriend!"

"You mean, ' _pretend'_ boyfriend." Francis corrected with a smug smile that it almost earned him a punch in the face.

"Shut up! I'm not talking to you shit face!"

"Well I'm talking to you, asshole!"

Shit face and Asshole, such a lovely combination don't you think so? Arthur chose to kept the sarcastic remark to himself but since he would be doing a lot of thinking, from now on he would be referring to them with said nicknames: Shit face as Francis, and Asshole as Alfred.

"Alfred," He called out, careful not to refer to him by the insulting name the French man gave him. The American's head turned to face him and so did Francis'. Both waited for what he was going to say. "you please lower down your voice?"

"Me? But Shit face was also shouting!"

"He wasn't."

"So you're siding with him huh?"

"What? I'm not siding with anyone here!"

"And here I am, rushing all the way here, thinking that you've been looking forward to spend the day with me."

"Bloody, bleeding fuck Alfred! Stop acting like a bitchy girlfriend!"

"Oh so now I'm a bitchy girlfriend?" The American crossed his arms and scoffed. "You were the one who had me hoping you limey. Sending a message in the middle of the night and shit and—"

"I thought you didn't receive my text?"

Alfred paused for a moment. Oh god he let that one slip out. "Y-you mentioned it when you called!"

"Yes I did. Now what is this 'you had me hoping' shit you're talking about when you only knew about the message just about a fucking hour ago?"

"W-well you know me! I—"

"Maybe you actually received the message and chose to ignore it!" Arthur huffed and crossed his arms though the way he looked with it seemed for fitting than the way Alfred posed for he looked like a whining child rather than someone who was in the middle of an adult conversation.

Francis was now quiet by the side as he watched the two debate on some text message he had no idea about. It irked him though to know that Arthur messaged the Asshole beside him in the middle of the night right about when he texted the Brit. Maybe if Alfred replied at that time with a long list of activities for the day, Francis would have been rejected easily. Deep inside him, he was thankful for the way things were going on right now.

"Look who's acting like a bitchy girlfriend now." Alfred thought it would catch Arthur off guard but it only fuelled the Brit's anger more.

"Well I'm terribly sorry for worrying about you in the middle of the fucking night." The Brit huffed, the words escaping his mouth before he could even stop himself.

"You were worried about me?"

"No shit, wanker! How could I not? One moment you were all giddy and happy and laughing boisterously then the next minute you were cold, annoyed, pissed off, suddenly not in the mood for any joke and chose to stay quiet and awkward and a whole lot of that!

"And so I thought maybe you suddenly felt sick, might have an upset stomach because of too much eating, suddenly felt tired miraculously, OR maybe I did something wrong! Did I call you fat again? Destroyed your dreams of becoming a hero? Did something I didn't know that offended you? Holy hell do you have any idea how—"

When he realized he was almost at the top of his lungs, raising his voice like he wasn't supposed to, Arthur caught any other word that tried to come out from him and shut his mouth while he looked at the shocked American before him. To be honest, he was quite surprised with himself.

"I-I'm going out with Francis tonight." He declared and the French man was just too happy to finally have his presence known once again in the room.

"What!? But I thought—"

Arthur did not bother listen to whatever the American had to say. He cut him off by turning his back against him and reached a hand towards the door, pulled it open, and leaved without another word.

"You really just had to compete with me, don't you?"

Alfred looked at Francis with hopeless eyes. For the first time, he did not feel like starting another argument with French man. All the energy from moments ago was gone in a snap. It all drained out of his body the moment Arthur slammed the door shut. He averted his eyes from the other and leaned back on the table present for support. He felt so weak all of a sudden.

Not a word left his mouth and Francis took the chance to speak more.

"I should have seen this coming. It's a huge mistake to even think that you'd be happy just being his friend. What just happened proved me wrong. But you fell in love with him—"

"Shut up shit face." He stopped the other man from talking before he could even hear the rest of what he had to say about the matter. But of course, Francis was not going to let him away just like that.

"I see what the problem is now. You're denying your feelings for him. No wonder you're having such a hard time." Francis chuckled and crossed his legs.

Alfred had had enough of the other blond. He tried to glare at him with all his might just to appear threatening but it seemed that he had lost the fire in his eyes since Francis' grin only grew wider. He could not even create a witty comeback.

He wanted to go after the Brit but he decided not to. They were both hot headed at the moment, mostly Arthur. God he felt so bad, he felt worse. As he headed for the door, he tried his best to ignore the look that Francis was giving him. It was mocking him, and he was not having that kind of treatment. Before he opened the door at the back exit, he stopped and turned his head to look at the Frenchman in the eye.

"The fact that Arthur got angry means he cares a fucking lot about me. Suck that."

"You may be right, but it also proves how much of an asshole you are and how much you don't know about Arthur." Francis snickered. "That's why I'm taking this chance tonight, to prove to him that I'm so much better than you. Suck that."

Every word the long-haired blond said was true and for a moment, he thought about stomping his way towards the other to rip his head off but when he remembered Arthur, he fought the urge to punch the living daylights out of Francis. The smartest thing to do as of the moment was to pretend he did not hear anything and disappear.

With a shaking hand, he turned the knob and pulled the door open. The foul smell that clung to the walls of the alley greeted him as if trying to taunt him more, see how far he could hold his temper. Everything was making him lose himself even fate herself. The idea was justified when a certain blonde girl greeted him with a wide smile and a body of plastic just at the end of the narrow path which blocked his view of the busy highway.

"Alfie!"

Ashley rushed to his side and he deliberately ignored her by walking past her. Needless to say it was a futile attempt in escaping the persistent woman. It seemed that snatching his arm away whenever she touched him and glaring at him when she pouted did not relay the message properly.

"Ashley, I don't wanna talk to you."

"But Alfie~" She whined and continued to follow him. "I'm just concerned ya' know. I mean, I heard you fight with Arthur and—"

"You what?" It made him stop on his heels and really turn his head to look at girl in the eye.

"You guys were pretty loud! I was at the door the whole time and—"

"What!? What the hell were you— My god you followed me?" He ran his fingers through the strands of his hair as the realization dawned on him. Oh god how fucked up was he going to be? If Ashley heard the conversation between then there was a very high chance of her knowing what really went on between him and Arthur! "How much did you hear?"

"Since Arthur started shouting at you. He said, he's going out with um, someone? I didn't hear the name properly." Alfred had no idea she was lying because the truth was she heard the name loud and clear. It was Francis, and she was sure that it was the same Francis that was responsible for her transformation. "So, is it true?"

"What is?"

"That Arthur's going out with someone else—"

"That's not true." He said sternly, emphasizing each word to try and make Ashley understand his point. "What you heard is just a little misunderstanding. Arthur has no one else but me." His voice almost faltered as he spoke. Deep inside him he was unsure about what he said but he continued lying through his teeth nonetheless.

"We're very tight ya'know. It's _impossible_ to break us. _Only an idiot would try to."_

He made sure to put an emphasis on the very last sentence. He would have said that to Francis if he had the chance and the whole universe was on his side. Sadly, everything seemed to be playing against him and he did not care if he broke whatever hope there was that kept Ashley pursuing him.

What he said effectively caught the woman off guard. The way his smile froze on his face and his eyes looked up at Alfred said it all. The American took the chance to walk away and escape, leaving the poor girl alone with his words probably ringing again and again in her ears.

When Alfred reached his car, he finally let out the frustrated scream he had been trying to hold since Doctor Honda Kiku slapped him with some fine assed reality. He pounded on the wheel until his fists turned red. He screwed up big time.

Just then, his phone began vibrating wildly in his pockets and he was just too eager to see whoever it was that had the nerve to call him in the middle of a terrible day. Because he was hoping that maybe it was the British man who miraculously changed his mind about going out with Francis (for tonight) and go with him instead?

His hoped died down when he saw his mother's picture flashing on the screen as if teasing him and making him feel more horrible. He figured out that Arthur was not going to call him, message him, talk to him, communicate with him in any way. If he was not going to hear Arthur's voice at the other end of the line, then he was going to hear no one else. And so, he turned his phone off and threw it at the back seat without a care.

If Arthur did not want to talk to him, then hell the feeling was fucking mutual.

"Oh goodness that boy!"

Sandra Jones dropped her weight on the couch with her eyes looking at her phone. Did Alfred just ignore her call? How dare that young man! Was he not aware that one of the scariest things in life was to miss a phone call from one's mother?

"Is there something wrong?"

"I think Alfred turned his phone off. The line was like 'ring ring'' and then suddenly it went 'toot toot'." She replied with exaggeration in her movements. "I told you, you should've been the one to give him a ring. Higher chances of him answering his phone you know."

Her eyes traveled from her phone to the young man on her laptop screen. At the sight of him, a small smile graced her face. It was as if she was looking at her own reflection, just that the other had shorter hair and wore rectangular glasses. Other than that, he was a perfect copy of her.

"Nah, I guess it's better this way." The man's lips curved into the same smile as hers as he shifted slightly on his seat. "I think I'll just surprise Al."

"Lovely idea." Sandra held a thumbs up. "Well, 3 more days huh?" He nodded his head, the screen suddenly freezing for a moment that she clicked her tongue. "Hey sweetie, you still there?"

She tried to minimize the screen then making it bigger again but it did not work. She then tried turning off the video and sticking to just a simple voice call but there was no response. Then in desperation, she lifted her fisted and was about to pound on her laptop since it usually solved problems like that. Fortunately for the poor laptop, the video chat suddenly worked once again and the man on the other side of the line was able to stop her from banging the shit out of it.

"Woah there!"

Sandra brought her arms down and leaned forward towards the screen to have a better look at boy.

"No need to be violent. Pound on it and that'll be like, the last gadget you're ever going to lay your hands on, mom."

Sandra only smiled at him innocently as if nothing happened. "Oh, shut up son, just come home."

* * *

Later that night, Francis did not enjoy the evening as much as he expected he would.

Not when Arthur got himself a little bit tipsy with the finest bottles of wine and muttering words that had something to do with the person he was beginning to hate more and more... and possibly more.

"That fucking son of a—" The Brit lied down on his couch as he tried to take the glass of wine away from his slender fingers. Upon losing contact with his drink, Arthur looked at Francis and glared with all his might. "The bloody hell are you doing?"

"You're getting yourself drunk."

"I'm not. It's just wine you idiot."

"Exactly mon cher." Francis sighed and walked towards the kitchen which was just across the living room, separated by a wall full of paintings of French girls. "It's just wine and yet you're losing yourself."

"I'm not losing myself."

"That's what you always say."

He disappeared from the Englishman's sight. Throwing the remaining contents of the glass on the sink would only be a waste and so he decided to drink the last drops of wine before setting the glass on the sink with a frown.

The night obviously did not go as he planned. When Alfred and Arthur fought, he thought that finally, fate was giving him an opportunity to have the Brit's attention all to his own. They would eat the food he cooked, tease Arthur a little bit about how he would never ever achieve the level of his fine cooking, chat a little, catch up to what they missed during the times they did not hear anything from each other.

Arthur was a sucker for romantic movies and he had a collection of everything that could make the Englishman cry his heart out and touch his soul. Maybe while watching, Arthur would unconsciously scoot closer to him and just like that, the mood would be set. They would be contented with just the sound of their breaths taking over the serenity that his place offered.

And then slowly, gently, he would lift Arthur's chin up to look at him and tell him the words he had been wanting to say for a long time. With a low voice and sincere eyes, he would let Arthur hear the sweetest 'I love you' no one had ever said throughout the history of human beings.

Alfred just had to get in the way.

Since the time Arthur hopped on his car, throughout dinner, and up until he tried to save the evening by opening a bottle of wine, the only thing that came out of the smaller blond's lips were nonsense.

' _Stupid, American prat.'_

' _Oh, salad. If Alfred were here, he would've served me his bloody greasy burgers.'_

' _Wine? Thank god. Alfred would have made me drink coke.'_

' _Damn that boy.'_

Even if most of what he said were insults, Francis could not bring himself to be happy about it.

When Francis returned to the living room, Arthur was already sitting like a proper gentleman. His face was still flushed a bit from the amount of wine he drank but he still was in the proper state of mind. That, Francis was sure of. Else, the Englishman would have trashed the place.

Their eyes met and they remained locked for a few seconds before Francis smiled and Arthur looked away. He walked and sat beside the man, making sure to keep a little distance between them as to not anger the Brit more. Having him despise Alfred was enough and a lot more acceptable.

"So, have you calmed down yet?"

"What?"

"All that came out of your mouth was about Alfred, just in case you didn't notice."

"Oh. Sorry."

Francis hummed in response. He did not know what the Brit was apologizing for. Did he know that he was feeling upset about it? Knowing Arthur, it was not impossible. Then again, knowing Arthur, it may not be impossible but the thought would be hardly entertained.

"I think there's something wrong with me." Arthur continued speaking, his eyes staring at the television even if it was not on. "It feels so wrong."

"What is?"

"I don't know. I was hoping you'd tell me."

"Oh." The Frenchman looked at Arthur, surprised and a bit confused. He had no idea what was going on in Arthur's head. The Englishman was not always easy to read. There were times when even hours of wondering would lead him to a dead end whenever he tried to figure out what was going on inside his head.

He had no idea how to answer the question but that did not mean he did not have an answer for the other. It pained him to even think about it, to even consider the idea that the Englishman may have been going through the same phase as Alfred. Arthur might be in love with—

There was no way he was going to complete that sentence even if it killed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I know I've been uh, taking my time with the development of the story but I just can't help it. So many scenarios are piling up in this fangirling brain of mine and I just had to write them all down. Hahaha!  
> Thanks for the support guys! The alerts, favorites, and reviews were as awesome as motherfuckin' Prussia. As proof of my gratitude, here's a little giveaway for the next chapter:  
> "...that the answer to the millions of questions I asked myself was just a simple I love you." I guess that's too much of a giveaway don't you think? *wink wink*


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOM! I am so sorry for the pain I'm causing Francis. So sorry.

Time passed by at a ridiculously slow pace. The bottles of wine had been empty for hours and the television had been off after a long, dramatic yet romantic movie. Francis was quite pleased that his evening was not completely ruined by the constant rubbish that escaped from Arthur's mouth. But that did not mean that he was happy about how the Englishman behaved after.

' _I think something's wrong with me.'_

After that one sentence, Arthur did not say anything more. His eyes grew distant, as he was merely physically present but his mind had been wandering in another world. A world without him, and to add to his paranoia, a world where Alfred Jones existed. It bothered him greatly to the point where he almost tried to literally shake Arthur's whole being just to snap him back to reality. Because reality was where Francis was. He was the one beside him that night, and so he should be the only one receiving all the attention.

In an attempt to save his evening for the better, he refused to deprive the Englishman of the wine he had taken away from the other blonde before and later on, presented Arthur a big pile of romantic DVDs for the Brit to freely choose from.

When those emerald eyes lit up, Francis could not help but smile and work harder to successfully hold on to Arthur.

The movie took two hours to finish. All throughout the movie, the Brit was silent except for the few times he just had to react dramatically over a character's line and Francis was more than happy to entertain the sudden outbursts. The glasses that were gradually being filled and emptied did not help in containing the British man's 'feels' but Francis figured out he did not really mind.

As the credits began rolling though, the Frenchman found a head resting on his shoulder.

It was rare for him to be this close to Arthur. There was hardly any space between them. In situations like this one, did anyone really think he had the heart to wake the smaller man up and tell him that it was time to leave? Hell no. And so he found himself admiring the serenity that reflected on the face of his beloved and they stayed like that until almost half of the city was asleep.

"Arthur?"

The Brit remained unmoving. His only response was the gentle breaths that went out his partly parted lips. Francis found himself smiling despite the lack of activity. Because truly, everything Arthur did never failed to pull the corner of his lips, even the simplest thing such as pulling up an innocent face in his sleep.

"I have so many things to tell you." Francis spoke again despite knowing that only the silence of his place would answer him. "Things that I have been meaning for you to hear for a long time, but for some reason, I was never given the chance. To be honest, sometimes I feel as if the whole universe is against me, you know? Because, every time I take a step forward towards you, something would always get in the way and before I even know it, that one step I took only made me drift farther."

He closed his eyes for a moment as the memories of all his futile attempts replayed in his mind. After going through a few major events of his unexpectedly not so exciting life, he could not help but realize one thing.

"Nothing ever goes my way." He mumbled with a half hearted smile as he opened his eyes to stare back down at the sleeping figure on his shoulder. Arthur Kirkland, they were so close but still he was out of reach. Even so, he was and would be worth a million sacrifices. It was a thought that never left Francis' mind, that reminder kept him fighting, hoping the someday all his hard work would be rewarded.

No one else could ever take Arthur's place. For the Frenchman, it was impossible. He stretched an arm and draped it over the Brit's shoulders to pull him closer but he moved gently, careful not to wake the sleeping beauty up. He wished that the moment would last forever as he buried his nose in the blond, dishevelled locks that smelled oh so sweet and comforting with his eyes closing once again. All those worries and regrets were washed away in an instant. Right now, only one thing mattered, only one thing was clear.

"My god, I love you so much, Arthur."

"What?"

Francis' eyes shot open in surprise at the sudden presence of another voice which belonged to the supposed to be sleeping blond in his arm. He pulled away slightly to look down at the now, half conscious Englishman who seemed to not have registered their position yet. His green eyes still was hazy and his lids blinked slowly as they tried to keep him awake.

"Y-you're awake?"

"No I'm not."

Ah, there was that familiar sarcasm that the Brit was so good at.

"How long?"

"Are you stupid? I just woke up." Arthur sat straight up and Francis took the opportunity to withdraw his hand back by his side before the other noticed it had been draped over his slender shoulders all this time. "You were making a lot of noise."

"Noise?"

"Were you talking to yourself?"

The Frenchman almost choked at nothing as guilt crawled on his skin. "You heard me?"

"Yes."

"What exactly did you hear?"

Arthur sent him a sceptical look before rolling his eyes and standing up to stretch his arms and legs properly.

"I was asleep you idiot. I heard you, but I did not understand the crap you were talking about with yourself. No worries."

"Oh."

He sighed in relief but at the same time, he felt quite disappointed. He just poured out his feelings and said those three words with every bit of emotion he had. Not that there was anything to complain though. He started talking knowing the fact that his companion was sleeping soundly. But still, you know?

"Hey frog, what time is it?" There was uncertainty in Arthur's voice, Francis noticed. Truth to be told, he hesitated answering the question. It was already late and without a doubt, Arthur would be bolting out his doors the moment he knew there was only an hour left before midnight. The sandy blond would leave him alone again. That was inevitable and he knew that. But every minute of delay mattered so much for Francis. Every second meant everything when the Brit was with him.

Unfortunately, nothing ever went in his favor. He had to suck reality in. "It's eleven o'clock."

Just as he expected, Arthur's eyes widened in panic as he collected his things that were surprisingly scattered all over the place. His phone was on the other side of the room for unknown reasons though he had a good guess as to why it was there. His shoes were under the center table, his brown satchel bag vomited its contents out. Francis stood up but refused to move his feet. As much as he wanted to help his messed up friend gather his things, he decided not to.

Every minute of delay mattered so much. "Why did you not wake me up? Damn it." Every second meant everything.

"Only a beast would have the heart to wake you up, mon lapin." He chuckled despite himself. It was true though. Even the meanest guy on Earth wouldn't even try to shake him back to consciousness if he saw him. Arthur only rolled his eyes.

He cradled all his stuff on his arms and shoved them in his bag in one swift motion.

"Whatever. I'm going home." The Brit cursed under his breath as hopped towards the door while trying to fit his feet on his shoe. "Peter's probably waiting for me."

"All right. I'll drive you home then."

"No need." His offer was quickly refused and it felt so discouraging that his smile almost faltered. The corner of his lips quivered while he tried to ignore the heavy feeling. "What the hell is with that look?"

When his eyes snapped back at Arthur, he was surprised to see the Brit not looking amused. In fact, he also thought he saw a hint of guilt and, was that embarrassment?

"You looked defeated. I just refused to be driven home. Don't give me that face." Arthur knew? But he believed that his facade was perfect, if not, then almost perfect. He had been able to go through tough times like these just by keeping his face lit up even if it felt emotionally tiring. And now Arthur was pointing it out and he felt overwhelmed. Before he could even say anything, Arthur continued to speak though his back was already against him as the Brit headed for the door. "I've been feeling down since this morning. Don't ask why. The point is," Arthur stopped and turned his head slightly to meet Francis' eyes. "The point is I enjoyed tonight. Thank you."

The door opened and closed before he even realized it. Once again he was alone in his quiet home but for some reason, he did not feel quite lonely. He did not feel defeated, frustrated, distressed. If anything, he felt a small sense of accomplishment. He felt hopeful and he did not question the sudden positivity the rushed through him because there was no need.

With the simplest words, Arthur was once more was able to work his magic and that was just one of the reasons why Francis Bonnefoy was just so in love with this man.

The Englishman was not surprised to see his brother sleeping on the couch with the television still on. It was this unlikely sight that greeted him but he just could not afford to get mad at the younger boy because the one who should be blamed for the mess was none other than himself.

He let his bag slide off his shoulders and down beneath his feet as he pondered about what to do with Peter. The lad obviously waited for him to come home and drifted to sleep in the process. Though even if he inquired about it in the morning, Peter would just brush it off and mutter some excuse because to be honest, Arthur knew that if he were in the same position, he'd be doing the same. Sometimes their similarities scared him but it was proof that they were undeniably brothers.

He considered lifting the boy up and carrying him to bed. But as he stretched out his arms to brace himself from the weight of his brother, he was quickly discouraged when he noticed how much the boy had grown. If he wanted Peter on his bed, he would have to wake him up even if he did not want to disturb his sleep. It was better than having to leave him sleeping on the couch.

"Hey Peter, wake up." He gently nudged the other's shoulder which earned him a grunt from the other before turning on his back but he was having none of it. He tried again by shaking Peter a little harder. "Wake up, you."

The sleeping boy shifted once again as he turned to see who kept on disturbing his peaceful sleep. One blue eye peered out from beneath its lid and looked up at Arthur who sighed as Peter was waking up at last. The younger blond propped himself up upon seeing his older brother as he rubbed his eyes.

"You're home." Peter's voice was still hoarse from having been woken up. "Out with Alfred again?"

Arthur's eyes hardened at the mention of the American's name. He had been trying so hard to keep the events earlier that day out of his mind but it just had to chase him down all the way to his home. It was bothering him and he felt so bad about it. Was he to blame for everything? Or both parties were at fault? Or maybe it really was just him because when you look at it in different angles, the fault would fall on him and—

"Is something the matter?" Peter's voice shook him back to their conversation.

"Er, no. Actually I was out with Francis."

"Francis? You mean, the French guy with awful hair?"

Arthur had to laugh at that. If Francis were to hear his brother, he would have been broken hearted to a great extent. Still though, he was glad that Peter thought the same. "Yes."

"Oh." Peter stood up and stretched as another yawn made its way on his lips. Arthur found himself doing the same. Wasn't there a fact about how contagious yawning was? Well now that he noticed it, he felt sleepy once again despite having fallen asleep back at Francis' place. "I thought you were out with Alfred."

"Huh? Why would you think that?" He asked absentmindedly as he picked up his bag from the floor.

"I don't know. It's just that, it seems natural for you to be with him. Looks right, I guess." Peter's words made his whole body frozen once again. It was a good thing that the lad was already marching away towards his own bedroom or else he would have noticed the sudden change in Arthur's form. "Anyway, good night brother."

Arthur was not able to manage to say a 'good night' back. Hell he was not able to do anything at all as he was left there standing alone in the dark living room.

What was that about? What was this about? What was everything happening to him all of a sudden about? He found himself dropping all of his weight on the couch as a wave of questions suddenly hit him. Now that Peter stated it, he remembered everyone that knew him and Alfred the way they were. Friends and nothing more yet every time he was alone, the only question that escaped their mouths was ' _Where's Alfred?'_ It was as if something was not complete if the other was missing and Arthur regretted the fact that he felt the same too one way or another.

Maybe he just grew to be so used to being with the American. After all, they were together almost every day that sometimes he wondered how Alfred managed to keep up with the other businesses he had in his life. For all he knew, the sunny blond was a son of a rich man and soon enough he would be taking the vital place of his father in their business. Also, knowing Alfred, he should have a lot of friends in the outside. Yet for some reason, the American would always find his way to him even in the most impossible times.

The idea that he might be someone special was immediately thrown away to rot in hell. Him? Arthur Kirkland? Special? Maybe in a way because he was after all, the American's "partner in crime" but that was it. They were not supposed to be something more than that. Best friends? Who was he kidding. They should not even dare to take a step that close. But why not?

"Why not?" He muttered to himself, not really expecting someone to answer him. But really though, why the hell not? Somewhere deep inside his mind knew why. It was because it was dangerous. Then again, why was it dangerous? The ideas stopped flowing and he met a dead end. He did not have any answer to that and maybe it would take quite some time before he figured it out.

So he shook every question that did not matter. Everything that he should not be wondering about in the first place was once more flushed out of his thoughts with no intention of getting back at them. What was important was the problem between him and Alfred. They fought, that was a fact and Arthur felt so heavy just by thinking about it. Maybe Peter was right? It was natural for him to be with the American— in a perfectly innocent, heterosexual way— and being away from him was just not... right.

If that was true, then perhaps tomorrow they would be on good terms again. The fight would be forgotten in a blink of an eye and both of them would move on as if it did not happen. If they fit each other nicely then maybe patching up and saying sorry would not be so hard as Arthur feared it would be? But who should be apologizing between the two of them? Should it be him? Was it his fault? Entirely his fault? Or maybe he should wait for Alfred to say sorry first? But that seemed to be impossible for some reason.

Bloody hell, indeed it was harder than he thought.

As millions of questions swept through his tired mind, his eyes slowly gave up on waiting for him to arrive at an answer he most likely won't accept. The dark room turned darker as his lids closed and soon enough he drifted away to unconsciousness. The bothering questions had lulled him to sleep.

* * *

"Is he alright?"

"I'll have to go for no he isn't."

"But why?"

"Oh look, he's checking on his phone again."

"It's like, the tenth time already."

"Not to mention, it's been three days."

"Ah, he looks sadder."

Arthur sighed for the umpteenth time as he dropped his phone back in his pocket. Just like what his gossiping workmates had said, it had been three days since he had been acting weird. Well, maybe for them the way he acted was weird but for Arthur, can he not just have the urge to hit them with his sarcastic remarks once in a while? Can he not be in the mood for a few days? Ooh he could hear his friends alright. Somehow he could not bring himself to be mad at them because despite the secret glances and conversations behind him, he knew that they were just worried as hell for him. Whenever he would meet one of them in the eye, there was nothing there but concern. Even Gilbert! And Scott! And the other male staff around him which he loved throwing punches at looked at him with worry in their eyes. Had he really been acting in an out-of-this-world kind of weird?

"Maybe it was about Alfred after all."

"Now that you said that, he hasn't dropped by for three days."

"Yeah. That's just weird. Like, really weird."

"Lover's quarrel?"

"But they're not—Oh... OH! Ooooh."

Arthur could not help but flinch at the last two ideas his bloody friends had in mind. He stopped right before he went out of the kitchen to face them with a not so amused face.

"Hey, I can hear you, you wankers." He stated coldly which caused almost everyone present to flinch and look away, afraid that the Brit might start throwing things at them again. But of course, Arthur simply turned back and walked out to leave them with their hanging jaws alone.

But they were right at one point though. It was about Alfred. It had been three days since their fight and still he was not able to contact the American. He tried sending him a message, he tried calling his phone. All of his attempts though were futile. Was Alfred really mad at him? He felt more and more defeated with every unanswered phone call and ignored text message.

He concluded that it was just going to be another boring, useless, shitty day and all he could do was hope that tomorrow, something good will happen.

That something good he had been waiting for though did not bother to wait for tomorrow's rising sun.

When Arthur arrived home, he was more than ready to embrace the comfort of his bed. His brother prepared dinner as usual and as to not let the efforts of Peter go to waste, he would force himself to finish everything up even if he had no appetite. Then he would help the younger clean up just like always, except that Peter would insist on doing the dishes all on his own since, ' _You don't look good, brother. Go rest.'_

And so that was what he was about to do, except the doorbell rang violently as it was pressed repeatedly which annoyed Arthur to no end. Oh whoever that was, he was going to make sure he would be able to crush every bit of joy the person had.

It was a different story however, when that said person turned out to be Alfred F. Jones.

"Alfred!?"

The guy was a mess. His white polo was wrinkled and it went the same for his pants. His tie was loose, he was missing a shoe, his glasses were crooked, and his baby face was covered in soot. To make matters worse, Alfred reeked of alcohol and was, without a doubt, drunk out of his mind.

"Artie!" The American practically threw himself over the smaller blond, completely unaware of how much more he weighed than Arthur who was just as light as a petite woman. The sudden impact threw Arthur off guard that he almost tumbled down the floor. It was a good thing he was able to stretch one hand towards the door for support.

"What the hell— stop moving you git!" The only response he had were garbled words in between hiccups. He should not have expected anything more. Contrary to what he demanded though, the taller blond only tightened his arms around Arthur and began mumbling in the Brit's ear but still, the smaller of the two still failed to understand whatever the drunken man was saying. "Peter! Hey Peter come here!"

The youngest blond responded within a few seconds and was surprised at the state their visitor was in. He rushed beside his brother and helped in carrying Alfred towards the couch. It had been a challenge though, as the three of them fell on their knees constantly before reaching the living room which really was just a few steps from the door. It took them a while before English brothers were able to throw the American on the coach.

"He's heavy."

"Oh really? I haven't noticed."

Peter rolled his eyes as Arthur ran his fingers through his hair. He stared down at Alfred who still seemed to be conscious though his mind was probably somewhere in heaven at the moment. Oh god, what should he do?

"Peter, grab me a towel and warm water."

The younger of the two quickly complied without question. When Peter returned, he immediately began to wipe Alfred's face and it wasn't as easy as he thought. The dirt clung on the American's skin like it was actually a part of it. So he tried to put a little bit of pressure on his hand but Alfred did not seem to enjoy the sudden roughness as his started shaking his head away from the wet towel and Arthur's hands.

"Be still!"

"No! No, no, no, no, no! Get that away from me! I'm drowning!" Alfred protested and it made the two British men in the room look at him as if he was the biggest idiot they knew.

"You're not drowning, stupid! Hold st— Ow!" His forehead was hit due to the violent movements of the American's arms. Peter had to hold back a laugh as he went to aid his brother by trying to prevent those dangerous arms from moving.

"No! Nooo! Get away from me! I want Arthur! Don't touch me!"

"It's me you stupid— Alfred hold still!"

Peter's smaller hands had trouble in pinning those wrists down. Actually, it was as if those flailing arms did not have any trouble in moving at all as they continued causing trouble for Arthur. "Alfred— Wha— Damn it Jones!"

"I want Arthur!"

"Well I'm Arthur!"

"You're not! Arthuur!"

"ALFRED!" Bloody fuck he had had enough of this drunken shit. His patience snapped, his hands held the wailing American's cheeks and pulled them close to his face, making sure that their eyes met and nothing could break their contact. "It's me Arthur. You son of a— Stop moving and let me clean that goddamn face of yours!"

Silence suddenly enveloped the whole place that even Peter was shifting uncomfortably from where he stood. It was rare for his brother to lose his cool after all. Alfred seemed to have calmed down after the outburst and Peter finally was able to let go of those arms which dropped ungracefully beside their owner's body. Though they moved once again after a few seconds and to his surprise, Alfred's cold, sweaty palms moved up to cup Arthur's cheeks in the same way the Brit held his face.

"Arthur?"

"W-what the hell—ah!"

He suddenly was pulled in another tight hug. Good thing that his face slammed right into Alfred's chest or else it would have been embarrassing as hell to see the way his brother would react. Most probably, the lad was already thinking about teasing him the moment everything was over. Dear god, now that he remembered, Peter had no idea how he and Alfred really were connected aside from being friends.

"Arthur."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. Alfred smelled like... Alfred. Despite the scent of alcohol, Arthur found himself burying his face deeper into the wrinkled clothing which still gave off some of the American's usual perfume. How he missed it so that his hands felt weak as they fell on his thighs. For some odd reason, the way he was held seemed to tell him that the drunken man felt the same. It could not be his imagination because it felt so real, it was too good to be true but it was happening. He felt Alfred's breathes on the strands of his hair as he mumbled once again but Arthur could not hear the words.

"A-Alfred?"

"I missed you."

"What?" He asked, expecting Alfred to change his answer like what he always did but unexpectedly, the blond only repeated what he said in a much more heartfelt tone.

"I missed you."

Something sparked within Arthur which made him pull away a little bit harder than he intended. He was speechless. His mind went blank. What was he supposed to do at times like these? Beside him, he heard Peter whistling and looking at the ceiling innocently as if he did not see anything. Darn he was so, so sure that he really was not going to hear the end of it the next day and for the days that would follow.

"Shut up! He's drunk you know."

"But I didn't say anything." Peter pointed and grinned. "And I'm not blind to not see that he's drunk, brother. No need to be so defensive, geez."

Arthur sensed the laughter being suppressed behind those words and so he glared at Peter but still he seemed unfazed by it. After living with each other for years, maybe the effect in his glare was wearing off?

"Get out you little— Just go fetch some clothes. I think I have those extra large ones I use when sleeping. Now go." He waved the younger boy away who thankfully listened to him though the amusement in his face remained as he walked away.

And now he was all alone with Alfred.

Those blue eyes were still obviously clouded with alcohol as they stared at nothing. His face was still barely clean. Just where in the hell did the American go to have been dirtied like that? With a sigh, he tried to ignore the strong emotions he just felt a minute ago as he picked up the wet towel and began cleaning the other's face once again. Thank god Alfred ceased the struggling.

"You're such a child." He muttered under his breath but somehow it caught Alfred's attention. The lost eyes met Arthur's own but the Brit tried to avoid the stare and instead, focus on what he was doing. He regretted sending Peter away. The way Alfred was looking at him as he worked was slowly sucking out the little energy he had.

"I missed you."

"Er, yeah. I heard you the first time."

"I'm not drunk." After speaking though, the American's broad shoulders shook as he hiccupped which made Arthur shake his head and smile.

"Of course not, love."

"Love." Alfred repeated. "You always call me love. Do you love me? I'm not drunk."

"Maybe if you stop pointing that out, I might believe you."

"You did not answer the question."

For someone who was intoxicated, Alfred's words were as sharp as a knife and it managed to pierce Arthur's already panicking heart. What the hell was wrong with Alfred anyway? He was worse than he thought. Whatever he drank was able to climb up to his brain and was clouding every bit of sense that Alfred had. The American had been blabbering nonsense! Yes, he was convinced that all of those were just nonsense and—

"I'm serious."

"You're drunk, Alfred. Just stop talking."

"But—"

"Please."

His hand shook with every movement. Actually, Alfred's face was already clean and free from the black stains but still, he pretended there was still more because if he stopped, he had no idea what to do next. He could not look Alfred in the eye or else... Or else what? The thoughts he had been ignoring were rising up to the surface once more and it was making him feel worse.

"Arthur."

"Shut up."

"I love you."

"I said shut up."

"I love you."

"Damn it Alfred. Just how much did you drink?"

Fuck. Where the hell was Peter? Somebody make this bloody freakin' idiot of a guy stop talking.

"I've been thinking."

"Wow."

Obviously not happy with his sarcasm, a strong hand gripped his wrist and brought it down forcefully to stop it from doing whatever it was on his face. The firmness took Arthur off guard that it made his breath hitch. He had to admit that the grip partially hurt but he dared not complain.

"I've been asking myself." Alfred's eyes were cast down on his hand the held Arthur's. His head fell on the Englishman's shoulder which immediately tensed upon contact. "I've been thinking and asking, thinking and asking, again and again and again until I—" He hiccupped. "I realized something. I've been so fucking stupid. And you know what? I learned that the answer to the millions of questions I asked myself was just a simple _I love you._ I love you, Arthur. Please believe me."

Dear son of a fucking bitch. Alfred was drunk out of his mind.

Arthur did not need to see his reflection in the mirror to know that his cheeks had turned bright red. He felt the blood rushing up to his face. His hands were turning pale from how he tight he balled his fingers and the nails dug on his palms. Did he hear him right? Of course! Who was he kidding? But what Alfred said, it was just plain ridiculous, and weird, and wrong yet it felt right but it was wrong and—and was that a snore?

"Alfred?" He said hesitantly but the American did not show any signs of hearing him. He tried repeating his name again but Alfred did not even move a finger. Instead, Arthur noticed the light, steady rhythm of his partner's breathing and it calmed the Brit down somehow. He could move his frozen fingers again and his shoulders relaxed. He was glad that Alfred had fallen asleep but it did not change the fact that the American's words struck him like lightning. A restrained sigh came out his chapped lips.

"Blimey. That just now, it was a love confession wasn't it?"

His head whipped towards the direction of the voice and it revealed Peter with the ever so confident grin on his face as he carried the clothing that Arthur asked for.

"He's drunk, Peter. Don't be stupid."

"Come on. I'm just pointing out that it was a love confession. I didn't say it was for you." Peter answered smugly as he handed the shirt he found in his brother's closet. "Though he did say your name so—"

"Peter!" Arthur snapped but the supposed scary effect it should have dissolved when his voice shook. "You shouldn't have been eavesdropping in the first place."

"Well sorry. You two are just so entertaining. Too bad you guys are straight—"

"My god are you serious!?"

Peter only smiled innocently at him. He rolled his eyes then gently positioned Alfred to lie down on the pillow. The absence of weight on his body made him breath normally and in a steadier pace.

"Just help me change this idiot's clothes so we can retire for tonight."

"Okay."

The smaller blond was on his feet, assisting Arthur like he was told to. The room was suddenly silent with only the sound of shifting and breathing and irritated sighs though it was shattered by the youngest boy's curiosity.

"Hey brother."

"What?"

"That was definitely a love confe—OW!" Peter should have known better though still it was quite unfair because he definitely did not deserve a hard smack on the head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((I'm trying so hard to improve my writing so please feel free to point out my mistakes. Corrections and suggestions are highly appreciated. Lol I've been reading well written fanfics and I almost cried because they're so goddamn good. So yeah. :D))  
> OKAY SOOO what do you guys think? For those who were expecting Mattie to show up I am so so sorry but I promise you this, he'll be in the next chapter.  
> Oh and I love you guys, and I'm not drunk.
> 
> Thank you! May the feels be with you, wherever you may be.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my first day of school tomorrow. NOOOOO!

It hurt. Oh god it hurt. What was that intense pounding in his head? It felt like there was an unseen force that was forcing his skull open. His brows furrowed in pain and his lids were tightly shut as he tried seeking comfort by burying his face in... In something that felt so soft and sweet. Was that Vanilla? Um, Peppermint? Tea? Whatever it was, it felt inviting, relaxing, and comforting. Though somewhat it smelled so familiar but he could not bring himself anymore to dive into deep thinking because there really was nothing to complain about. In his half conscious mind, the only thing it was able to process was to be able to hold on to this wonderful thing. And so, he pulled the figure in his arms closer to his body. But maybe he hugged it a bit too tight that it let out a disgruntled moan in response to his actions.

...Wait, what?

His eyes hardened and shot open the moment it dawned on him that he was not alone on his bed. The thing on his arms was not a thing at all! Instead, it was a live, breathing creature clinging onto him the same way he did. As soon as the realization struck him, everything that had happened the night before flashed back on his mind.

He went out drinking, that much was obvious because of the bitter and rotten taste on his mouth. Next to drinking, he probably got him drunk to the bones and that was justified by the hellish feeling on his head as if it was going to split into two. After figuring out those two facts, his mind went blank. What happened next? He could not remember anything at all! But he had a good guess though. He probably was able to hit it off with an equally drunk chick and had great sex since he was shirtless. His pants were still on.

The world was a bit of a blur since he did not have his glasses on but that did not mean he can't recognize his surroundings. There was the bed, the door, the sleeping person, the sheets, the Union Jack pillow—

The Union Jack pillow? The last time he checked, his pillow had the stars, stripes, and all that but the British flag? He was absolutely sure that he did not purchase anything of the like.

His head was already screaming in pain and that brought him back to face the matter at hand. If he wanted his agony gone, he had to drink some medicine for it. He tried standing up but then his arm was still used as a resting pillow by the blonde beside him. The room was dim, and the stranger's face was buried in his chest so he could not see her features properly. His company seemed to be heavy in her sleep though so he did not mind wiggling his arm but his movements caused the other to feel uneasy. Alfred stopped moving, waiting for what was going to happen next.

The person then rolled on his back which freed his arm, and for the first time, Alfred was able to see his face. And in that very moment, the whole world seemed to stop.

' _Oh my god.'_

He was now fully awake and fully aware of his situation. She was not just some drunken woman he took home. Damn, now that he noticed every little detail within 3 feet, he realized that he was not even home! Whose room was this? Whose bed was this? Whose pillow was this?

It was Arthur's.

Alfred cursed under his breath. His fingers pulling the strands of his hair as he tried his hardest to remember what really happened last night. There were vague images flashing in his mind but he cannot connect the dots. He remembered he was shirtless and so he immediately threw the covers off Arthur's body. A sigh of relief escaped him when he saw that the Englishman was dressed. Thank god. He wouldn't forgive himself if he by chance stole the smaller blond's purity (though he was sure that there was no way Arthur still was untouched). Still, you know?

He decided to go way, way back from before he even started taking several shots of alcohol. Back when he still was at home, sulking in the corner of his bedroom with his dead phone in his hands. When he was all alone in the dark accompanied only by the surge of feelings and thoughts that he knew he could no longer deny as much as he wanted to. The reasons why he got himself overly intoxicated until he transformed to be a worthless piece of breathing, drunken crap.

Rewind, rewind, _rewind. 6 hours ago..._

_Half-lidded eyes scanned throughout the whole place. His vision could no longer be trusted as the whole world was already spinning around, everything was distorted. Yet through it all, Alfred could still see something that was clearer than crystal and brighter than the sun. It was a face that seemed to exist in every direction he turned his head to._

_The place was full of Arthur. Left, right, up, down, upside down, he saw those green eyes looking back at him with fondness that he kept on trying to chase after it. But every time he thought he reached Arthur, the Brit would be gone and he would find him somewhere else in the room. Then he'd do the same thing over and over again that for some reason, he managed to bring himself out of the sickening city club._

_Even on the outside world, he_ _could_ _still see the_ _Englishman's_ _figure. And_ _with_ _wobbling_ _legs,_ _he_ _made_ _an effort_ _to_ _go after_ _it_ _because_ _it_ _would always, always_ _suddenly disappear and reappear somewhere else_ _that was a_ _good_ _distance._ _Sometimes_ _he would see_ _it in_ _the_ _most impossible_ _places_ _like_ _under_ _cars_ _and_ _on_ _mid_ _air_ _but_ _he_ _did not_ _question it. The_ _American_ _followed_ _it_ _blindly,_ _desperate_ _even._ _So that_ _probably_ _explained_ _why he was_ _messed up,_ _with_ _a_ _lost_ _shoe_ _and_ _soot_ _on_ _his_ _face_ _and all_ _that._ _For_ _some_ _reason though,_ _Arthur's_ _face_ _led him_ _to,_ _well,_ _Arthur's_ _doorstep_ _and before_ _he even_ _knew_ _it,_ _he_ _was_ _raping_ _that_ _weird_ _button_ _on_ _the_ _wall._

_It did not take long before the real Arthur opened the door and he felt so estatic about it that he threw himself without warning. His vision may be fuzzy and his mind was just as blank as his test paper in Literature back in high school, but there was no mistaking that it was the British man whom he had been longing for. His past 3 days were just so goddamn awful. He was Arthur-less for three days and no one had any idea how much he was close to having his brain removed just to stop the mind-wrecking thoughts. Thus, getting himself to drown in alcohol._

" _Artie!"_

_His thoughts were full of Arthur and at that point, nothing else mattered. He did not feel his legs giving up, he did not notice Peter suddenly helping his brother out, and he had no idea that he was being brought and thrown rather harshly on the couch though he did remember falling against something soft._

_There were voices in the background but he did not understand them. The next thing he knew was something wet was touching his face, rubbing against his cheek which made him feel uncomfortable. Was someone attacking him? Was he being submerged into a basin full of water like in the movies?_

" _No! No, no, no, no, no! Get that away from me! I'm drowning!" He struggled to avoid the wet thing from touching him any further but whoever was taking control of the unknown weapon was pretty insistent and was even calling him stupid._

_Where was Arthur? Did the Englishman leave his side again? Just when he thought he finally reconciled with the sandy blond. "No! Nooo! Get away from me! I want Arthur! Don't touch me!"_

_Suddenly, hands were firmly holding his wrists and they tried to restrain his movements. But they were futile against his massive strength as he put more effort in lashing out._

" _I want Arthur!"_

" _Well I'm Arthur!"_ " _You're not! Arthuur!"_ " _ALFRED!"_

_Warm palms touched his face and he was pulled in a firm hold. His eyes went wide and he felt paralyzed as he locked his vision on something so beautifully green. It took his breath away and no words came out of his mind._ " _It's me Arthur. You son of a— Stop moving and let me clean that goddamn face of yours!"_

" _Arthur?"_

_Those green eyes, the faint scent of a tiring day and tea, a smooth voice with an accent he enjoyed hearing. No kidding, it was definitely Arthur who was talking to him, holding him in place and he could not be any happier. Something inside him sparked and in an instant, he pulled the smaller blond in his chest as his arms went around the other's slim figure. It felt so right having Arthur in his hold. He fitted perfectly in Alfred's body like a puzzle piece._

" _Arthur."_

" _A-Alfred?"_

" _I missed you."_

" _What?"_

" _I missed you."_

_He truly did, wasn't that obvious? For some reason, the Brit did not believe him as he felt Arthur pull away from his embrace. As much as he wanted not to let go, he seemed to have lost his strength and felt drained when he lost skin contact. Maybe Arthur just did not understand him? Maybe he was not heard? There were retreating steps and at first he thought that the Brit had gone away. Much to his relief, Arthur was still in front of him. Something wet touched his face once again but unlike before, he did not show any signs of struggling because now he was fully aware of what was happening._

_Arthur was taking care of him, wasn't he? What was there to complain about?_

" _You're such a child."_

" _I missed you." The words slipped away from his lips again._

" _Er, yeah. I heard you the first time."_

" _I'm not drunk."_

_He was awake and he knew what exactly was happening. But Arthur thought he was drunk so he did not believe him. That much he understood. His mind was still a mess, his whole being was a mess. But it was clear than anything else that Arthur was with him and that was all that mattered._

" _Of course not, love."_

" _Love." Alfred repeated. "You always call me love. Do you love me? I'm not drunk."_

" _Maybe if you stop pointing that out, I might believe you."_

" _You did not answer the question." It was a question he had always been meaning to ask. "I'm serious."_

" _You're drunk, Alfred. Just stop talking."_

" _But—"_

" _Please."_

" _Arthur."_

" _Shut up."_

" _I love you."_

" _I said shut up."_

" _I love you."_

" _Damn it Alfred. Just how much did you drink?"_

" _I've been thinking."_

" _Wow."_

_As the time passed by, the wet thing that Arthur was brushing against his face was getting annoying and it was distracting the Englishman. He wanted the attention solely to himself and that damn wet thingy was trying to steal it away from him. So he caught the other's wrist and held it firmly to bring it away from his face. Once again he met Arthur in the eye just to make sure that all the focus was on him. Then without much thinking, he had been vomiting the words he had been trying hard to keep to himself._

" _I've been thinking and asking, thinking and asking, again and again and again until I—" He hiccupped. "I realized something. I've been so fucking stupid. And you know what? I learned that the answer to the millions of questions I asked myself was just a simple I love you. I love you, Arthur. Please believe me."_

_After that, he felt the whole world shutting down._

Back in the present time, Alfred was beginning to choose which form of suicide he should use to end his life. Jumping on a cliff was a bit too dramatic, a bullet in his head was also nice but then he did not have a gun. Sleeping pills? Ugh that would take too long and it was not going to be sure death.

He felt his whole body breaking down a cold sweat. How could he have been so stupidly intoxicated? Those things that he said, he knew that there was no way he could take them back. After saying those stupid words, his mind went blank and he could not remember how Arthur reacted.

Oh, now that he thought of it, he realized that it did not end there. He glanced nervously at the sleeping blond beside him and wondered what could have happened next. For him to wake up in a very promising position with Arthur, there was no way that his stupidity ended after his con-confess— argh he could not even say it.

But what really happened? As much as replayed the scenes over and over again, he could not remember anything further.

"Mm..."

Arthur looked uncomfortable as his eyebrows furrowed. He also was shifting slightly and with every small movement, Alfred's breathes became uneven. The Brit then suddenly rolled to his side once more and for a second, he thought that his sleeping friend had woken up. Much to his relief, his eyes were still shut and his face remained calm and unbothered.

He then felt the sheets slightly moving and when he looked down, he noticed Arthur's hands seemingly trying to find something blindly. His fingers curled on the soft fabric from time to time. The view was undeniably inviting— Oh god what was he thinking? But then again, it may be unbelievable and crazy but he meant every word he said from last night.

Alfred had fallen in love with this wonderful man sleeping beside him. It was only natural to want to hug the other right?

It did not seem like the Brit would wake up soon anyway. Arthur must have been tired from taking good care of him since he had been troublesome. Despite knowing he gave the other a problem, the urge to embrace would not leave him and he felt extremely guilty of that.

But maybe just a quick hug won't hurt right? No, no. He already caused enough trouble. But maybe if for just a short—

Hnnnggggh.

He shouldn't be thinking about those things. Just because he already gave in with his feelings did not mean he already gained the right to touch and hug and kiss the Englishman as much as he pleased. That was him being incredibly selfish and, dare he say it, perverted in some way.

But then, just when he was about to try and sit up, Arthur's fingers brushed against his arm and it seemed to have unconsciously triggered some instincts in the Brit as he had scooted closer towards the American despite being sleep.

Alfred was so sure that this was some kind of punishment.

Contrary to how he expected his body to react—tensed muscles and paralysis— he felt himself relax at the slightest touch of their skin. Just like what Arthur did, he moved slightly closer enough for their noses to almost touch.

Only almost.

Even if his feelings were in command of his movements right now, he still was in the right state of mind to know not to push his luck too much.

' _Just a little bit.'_

With the very little distance between their faces, resisting to keep his hands to himself took a lot of will power and effort. Yeah, it truly was some kind of punishment for every silly thing he had done in the past twenty one years of his life.

And so, his arms remained folded against his chest.

A sudden knock on the door completely and effectively slapped him back with more of what reality had to offer. To be honest, he was kind of pissed off and his head ache coming back did not help at all. With a grunt, he reluctantly sat up and reached for his glasses which he spotted on the bedside table. Whoever was knocking seemed to have grown impatient by the lack of response as the door was pushed open without warning.

When he saw who the person was, he felt a new wave of uneasiness hit him. It was Peter, and the boy's arms were folded in his chest just like the way Arthur did. It felt intimidating.

"Oh." Peter raised his brows and grinned. "So you've finally detached yourself from my brother."

"W-what?"

"What do you mean 'what'? You clung to him last night like he was not going to live another day! It was really funny."

"I uh, d-don't really remember."

"Of course you don't." The younger blond smiled. "Anyway, breakfast's ready. If you want to eat then just come out." He was about to turn around before abruptly stopping with an even wider grin on his face and a change of tone. "But you know, I don't really mind if you still want to cuddle with my brother—"

"WH-I'LL EAT!" Oh shit. That was a bit loud, wasn't it? He looked at Arthur and thank god he was still fast asleep. He breathed a sigh of relief and Peter seemed to have reacted the same way. "I mean, I'll um, be there in a sec."

"Alright. Sure."

*

The place was a complete mess. It was more like a junk shop than a home! Empty bottles and cans were scattered on the floor with some of its contents making the place sticky. There were used tissues and he did not bother knowing what they were used for. As much as he wanted to take a seat, he could not. The couch was full of spilled junk food and ants were feasting on them.

All in all, he was in a dumpster which his idiot of a brother liked to call home.

"Alfred? Al, where the fuck are you!?" He called out irritably as he skipped through the pile of trash towards the American's room. Disappointment and disgust battled within him to find the room Alfred-less but full of garbage.

With the click of his tongue, the blond man rolled the sleeves of his shirt and covered the half of his face with his handkerchief. He left his bags right by the door since it was the only clean spot in the whole space. His dark blue eyes glared at the trash one by one, adjusting his glasses up on the process. The clock showed eight o'clock in the morning, he estimated that he would be finished in an hour and a half.

He immediately went to work. The sooner he started, the sooner he would finish, and the sooner he could rest. With a big, black trash bag he found in the kitchen drawers, he picked up the plastic wrappers and cups and swiftly shoot them inside, not wanting to hold it for more than a second. How in the world was his brother able to live while surrounded with these!

The next thing he did was to sweep the food that were scattered in almost every place. There were bits of Cheetos and Pringles under the couch. There were lollipop sticks lying in spilled beer. Some ants were also bathing along and it took all the courage he had to pick the disgusting thing with his hand. He sprayed a citrus smelling insecticide immediately after and jumped away.

The next thing he fought against was the ridiculous pile of dirty clothes on one corner of Alfred's bedroom. When he tried to pick one up, he almost shouted as he could have sworn he saw a lizard crawling out from the sleeve. It took him a while before he was able to muster the courage to carry the seemingly one hundred years old laundry towards the washing machine.

Oh lord, it was going to be a tough morning and he was sure that he was going to be paid back.

* 

The headache got worse.

He rested his head against the table as Peter arranged the food on it one by one. Even with his eyes shut tight, he could feel the other looking at him as the seat across him was taken. He really could not remember anything after his dreadful drama. The holy smell of bacon was not making him feel better at all for the first time!

Just as he thought, when he raised his head and opened his eyes, Peter simply stared at him with a very small yet meaningful smile.

"You're gonna make fun of me, aren't ya?" He grabbed the fork and began serving himself with promising amounts of bacon and egg.

"After what I've seen last night, it's really hard not to." The other snickered and it made him stop in the middle of putting the food in his mouth.

"Okay uh. What the hell exactly happened last night?" He wanted to say, 'what happened after I confessed to Arthur' but hell that would be one gigantic give away. There was no way he could acknowledge 'that' as 'that' because duh? Right? Besides, he was pretending he did not remembering anything.

"Oh boy, where do I start?"

Judging by the way Peter sipped his tea (he was quite surprised that even the boy drank the awful leaf water), he sensed that it would be the worst story he would ever listen to.

The boy filled him in with every single detail of his stupidity starting from when he raped their doorbell, looking like a runaway patient from an asylum. Then he was told how ' _b loody'_ heavy he was that even with the power of two British men, it was almost impossible to carry him. It did not take long before they reached the ' _proclamation of love'_ part (as Peter preferred to call it) and he had to fake a surprised and remorseful look when it was mentioned. He was teased over and over that the story did not progress any further. But Peter stopped joking afterwards since ' _we haven't reached my second favourite part yet.'_

The way the boy spoke, Alfred was now having second thoughts whether he still wanted to know the rest of the story or not.

But he listened until the end anyway.

Apparently, the reason why he was shirtless because Arthur tried to change his clothes since it was covered by soot and puke. He puked! Threw up! Vomited! Peter even pointed the spot where he released his stomach's contents out!

"I had to clean that you know! You owe me one hell of a favour!"

And so, continuing with the story. When Arthur tried to get him to wear his over sized shirt, he accused to Brit of being a witch who was going to sacrifice him to Satan. Then he kept demanding on being rescued by Arthur that the man itself had to slap his face just to get him to listen and believe that it was indeed the Englishman who was holding him.

After that, he hugged Arthur and refused to let him go. ' _Stay with me! Don't leave me alone!'_

' _I won't, alright? Just please release me. I cannot breath!'_

' _No way! I love you! I'm not letting you go again!'_

End of story.

"Oh fuck."

"I know."

He stared at his half eaten bacon, and the food stared right back at him. It was all coming back to him; everything he said and everything he did. As if the love confession was not enough reason to jump on a cliff, his wasted self just had to be a hundred percent honest about what he felt!

' _I was really sad when you chose shit face over me.'_

' _I wanted to cry when you went out the door and left me with shit face.'_

' _I am better than shit face.'_

Alfred swore he was never going to get himself drunk again. Ever. There was no way he could look Arthur in the eye after everything he said. Of course he could just brush it off as nothing serious but even so, it was hard not to feel embarrassed about it especially if deep inside he knew the words were true!

"I was drunk, okay? Gimme a break."

"They say, people tell the truth when they're drunk." Peter wiggled his brows at him. Shit. There was that saying and it couldn't have been truer.

"Y-yeah well, that's not always the case."

Time was passing by faster than he expected. It had been almost thirty minutes since they both sat down to eat breakfast and yet the food on his plate still was not down to a half. Something was really wrong with him because usually, he'd be on his third round of bacon by that time.

He had to get out as soon as possible. Before Arthur woke up, he should be gone. No, he was not going to escape and try to avoid the Brit as much as possible. At this point, he knew that he wouldn't be able to do that even if he tried. It was just that he was not ready yet. He still looked like shit— messy hair, crooked glasses, and very dark eye bags.

"I need to go." Alfred stood up abruptly but was stopped by a hand on his wrist. Peter was leaning over the table and was keeping him in place.

"So soon? Are you not going to wait till' brother wakes up?"

But Arthur was the reason why he needed to leave immediately. "Um, no. He needs all the rest he could get so, no."

"Oh really? Or maybe you're just shy after—"

"And then there's that." He admitted as a hand rubbed the back of his neck. Peter raised a brow at him and he knew what the child was thinking. "It's not what you think! It's just really embarrassing ya'know!? Come on, dude! Put yourself in my shoes!"

"Whatever you say." The boy released him and proceeded to continue eating his breakfast. Alfred sighed in relief; he thought he was going to be interrogated on the spot and he had no idea how to deny whatever Peter might accuse him.

"Instead of making fun of me, shouldn't you be getting ready for school?"

"What are you talking about? It's Saturday."

"Oh." For him not to know what day it was meant he really had not been himself for the past days. Now he was being laughed at by some fifteen year old English boy who had witnessed a very bad part of his life...so far.

So. Far.

He could not imagine anything that was going to be worst than his current situation. Though there still was the chance that Arthur might know his real feelings and end their friendship, then there was also Arthur and Francis ending up with each other.

Indeed. It was only the worst day so far but he prayed that this should just be the most unforgivable event for the rest of his breathing career.

"I better get going." He turned around to walk towards the door but was stopped yet again by Peter as the boy pointed out how he looked worse than a homeless guy.

"You're still missing a shoe."

"What? Oh."

"And your polo's—"

"Yeah, I noticed." He looked at himself for a moment, deciding in the end that he did not care. And so he simply shrugged his shoulders and smiled. All he needed was money to ride a cab. Aslong as he had just the right amount, he'd be home without being questioned. "After what I did last night, I think I've earned myself some off the charts level of confidence."

Peter only shrugged his shoulders at him and then he was out.

*

It took him a while to finish but all his hard work paid off. The floors were shining like never before and it could almost be used as a mirror. He plopped down on the couch which was now free from any crumbs as he had vacuumed it

thoroughly and sprayed a generous amount Lysol on it. Alfred's bedroom looked like a normal bedroom and not some American dumpster. The whole place felt homey as well. It was completely different from an hour ago where it felt like a place for those who were condemned to suffer for eternity. Though he still wondered how Alfred's home reached a desperate situation, he had little strength left to continue thinking about it.

He had to save up some energy because he was not letting his damn brother get away with it.

It was moments before he almost fell asleep completely when he heard someone opening the door. Ah, the idiot was back, he thought, and so he sat straight up and crossed his arms and legs while he waited for the man to come inside and notice him.

When he saw Alfred looking like a beaten up zombie, he could not help but throw a pillow at him which caused the other to shout in surprise and he was accused as a ghost in the process. Good god, Alfred was like the missing item in the dirty place earlier! If the American arrived before he did and he found the blond lying in between the empty wrappers and bottles, he was afraid he would not bother touching anything in fear of the dirt being contagious.

While his thoughts were running wild like that, he almost forgot that Alfred was going through at lot of surprise and buffering in his own little world that his lips were frozen to the shape of an 'O' as no complete sentences exited his mouth. And so he decided to break the silence.

"Where the hell have you been?" He asked despite knowing that he would not be answered judging by how the other's eyes grew only wider. In exchange, he only stared back and waited until Alfred could regain his senses back.

"Wh—what the."

Alfred swallowed a lump in his throat before daring to take an unsure step forward. He did not know why his brother looked so scared to see him. It was not like he died ten years ago. When a minute passed and Alfred still haven't found the correct words to say, he decided to throw another well cleaned pillow at the standing figure only for it to be caught. It was hopefully effective as the American on the other end of the living room seemed to have remembered how to breathe.

"Mattie?"

Now that was more like it.

"Welcome back, Alfred. Though I really should be the one you'd be greeting that." His lips twitched as he smiled and it only showed that he was annoyed. Alfred knew that. But somehow, that did not matter at the moment since in a blink of an eye, a huge and smelly body tackled him on the couch.

"Mattie!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really going to make Matthew so nice and innocent here. Though he's still going to be nice. Lol.
> 
> Anyway, school starts tomorrow so it will take me quite some time to update again for the rest of the months ahead. I apologize in advance but I will still try my best since I'm also pretty excited in writing a new chapter.  
> Suggestions are welcome!
> 
> Stay awesome my beautiful readers. Thank you!


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our preliminary exams are now over so here's a new chapter! And before I forget… FOR THAT ONE PERSON WHO REVIEWED, ASKING ME IF I'M FROM YOU KNOW WHERE, WHO ARE YOU AND HOW DID YOU KNOW? I am very  
> bothered but in a good way.

"Where's Alfred?"

Peter heard the door creak behind him, followed by this still hoarse voice of Arthur who had just woken up from sleep. He was not at all surprised when his older brother dropped the question first thing after getting up. Actually he expected to hear it. With a bored sigh, he answered without stopping from washing the dishes.

"He's gone home."

"What!? Why did you let him?" It was another unsurprising question.

"Why not?"

"He's drunk."

"That was last night." He turned around with clean plates cradled in his arms as he looked at the other with a slightly amused, slightly bored face. "He's completely fine this morning. See these empty plates? I cooked for three people and he managed to eat your share and half of mine."

Even if just a little, Arthur appeared to calm down. A sigh of relief ghosted past his lips as he slowly walked and took a seat across where Peter stood.

The younger Kirkland raised a brow, finding how odd Arthur was acting. He knew that the other had tendencies to over react when it came to other childish people, brought by his brotherly instincts. Arthur was caring, and he could prove it in more ways than one. But somehow, this time it felt different. His concern towards Alfred was somewhat... on a different level perhaps? He mentally shook his head when he failed to find the proper words to describe how odd it was.

"But he did look like crap."

Just as expected, Arthur's brows furrowed and his tone became high and sharp when he spoke. "And you let him go looking like that?"

"He insisted." He shrugged his shoulders then settled the plates on the table as he dragged a chair and sat across Arthur with a peculiar look.

He had been wondering for a long time now, how exactly the two— Alfred and Arthur— had known each other. When he tried to remember from when he was introduced to the American, both did not mention anything about how they became friends. He knew the people that his brother was friends with. The guys and gals at the restaurant, very few classmates that were left in London, and then there was Francis. He had seen every one of them before, but Alfred? He was a new face. That was why he really did not understood how the two were barely inseparable.

To add to the oddity of things, Peter was admittedly shocked by how Alfred acted when he was drunk. The American was ridiculously clingy to his brother, and the things he heard from him were almost beyond normal.

Now it got him thinking. Every time the bespectacled man would come and visit, the first thing he would do was look for Arthur even if it was clear as day that the British man was out for work. Then in the middle of a game or a movie, there was no way that he would fail to bring Arthur up even if it was just a mindless thought or a slip of the tongue. Those simple sentiments gradually turned to serious inquiries born from concern. Even if Alfred would try to ask as casually and innocent as he could in an obvious effort not to sound weird, Peter saw through all of it but it did not bother him— at first.

Could it be that Alfred was... No. He shook his head as he just cannot bring himself to imagine his friend that way. Because the American did not seem like it! In fact, in those times where Arthur was out of the conversation, Alfred was like a typical, 22 year-old American who still had the immature, judging mind of a teenager who would actually consider such 'things' as out of his league.

Waving away those thoughts, he drifted his attention back at Arthur whose own little mind seemed to be wandering else as well. The older Brit simply sat on his chair, hands relaxed on his lap and his face expressionless. He rarely saw his brother so lost in his thoughts. The last time Arthur was like this wa—

Peter grunted as he leaned back in his chair. Arthur had been acting strange for three days straight, and right now heonly had gotten weirder and more worrying. Contrary to the questions that had started to build about Alfred, he had no doubts when it came to his brother. He knew him inside out, how much of a worry wart he could be, and the extent of how he could over react to things. Maybe the concern that the older blond was showing was just brought by the things that had happened that night, especially after Alfred acted as if he was on drugs.

A part of him wished that the American was really just indeed taking some.

"Hey," He called out and waved a hand on Arthur's line of sight. As if having woken up from sleep once again, the other's green eyes blinked a few times before finally focusing on Peter's face.

"What is it?" said Arthur, with his voice low and breathy.

"Can I ask you something?"

"But you're already asking."

He rolled his eyes at the mocking tone, but he was somewhat thankful to hear the sharpness in the other's voice again. "Is Alfred,"

Arthur stilled and for a moment he hesitated to continue. Maybe it was a bad idea to ask after all. But then he already dropped the American's name and it had taken the Englishman's full attention.

"What about him?"

"He said weird things last night and I was wondering—"

"Why he acted that way?"

Not exactly, but yes he did wonder about that. He nodded his head and sighed in relief.

Arthur bit his inner cheek and he waited patiently without saying anything. He watched as the other's green eyes drifted from one corner of the kitchen to another while probably trying to construct an explanation that would not be too weird to hear.

"We fought." It was a simple answer that the blond was able to come up with after all those minutes and it only made Peter feel a lot more unsure about what to feel and think.

"Why?" He asked, not really knowing what else to say.

"Because he was being childish." Arthur breathed in and then muttered something that he almost did not catch. "And maybe I was being childish as well."

Bloody hell. Did his brother just swallow his pride? He was now taking in impossibility. Arthur was as stubborn as hell and he would always, always claim that he was the mature one in every fight no matter how petty the reasons were. But now? Really?

Peter felt the corner of his lips pulling up to his ears. Not because he felt happy, but because he found everything to be amusingly confusing. For goodness' sake he was only 15; he should not be wasting his time with these kinds of problems. Not that he was an anti with an unreasonable phobia or something. It was just that, he never thought about it before. Why would he when there was no reason to.

Determined to shake the madness going on inside his brain, Peter stood up while Arthur continued to act lost and disoriented. Not liking the state his brother was into, he playfully smacked the other's forehead and before he got reprimanded, he told Arthur how much of a mess he was.

"Go sleep some more, brother." He instructed seriously, making sure that the man across him could not fight back. "You're not yourself and it's really unbecoming."

His words struck Arthur effectively and Peter was just happy that his brother obliged without question. He watched the other drag himself back to his room and the sound of the door shutting ended his unusual morning musings. Coming back to his senses, he stood up and decided to get ready to leave for work.

* 

With every word that came out of his brother, Matthew, Alfred felt himself sinking deeper and deeper on his couch.

"My god, Al! You own me one hell of a favor for cleaning your place up! What happened here anyway? It was more of a dumpster than a home! Did you see those used tissues? I had to pick them up— by hand— and I have no idea what in heaven's name was wiped using those. I prayed hard that those were not body fluids."

When Matthew raised an arm, Alfred thought he was going to get hit and flinched. But the hand he was expecting found its way through the younger Jones' own wavy hair.

"Where were you anyway? Have you been staying somewhere else for like, what, a month?"

"A month? Dude, where would I go? This place is quite awesome—"

"It is awesome because I cleaned it up." Matthew shook his head disbelievingly and leaned back on the now clean couch. "So what happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"For your place to turn worse than a pig's pen there's got to be something."

His blue eyes quickly withdrew from the other's suspicious face. Before he could think of an answer, his brother flung another question. An innocent, yet meaningful one that he did not expect.

"Were you staying with your boyfriend?"

The smile on his face froze and his heart pounded wildly. What did Matthew mean by boyfriend? Was he referring to Arthur? But he never told him anything about it! He did not want his precious brother to know simply because he did not want to. For the past months he was able to keep everything a secret to the other bespectacled boy. Who the hell could have told him?

"Mom told me just a few days before I got here. And now that I think of it, how come you never told me about it!"

This time when he flinched, a heartfelt slap landed on his arm. Instinctively, he grabbed the nearest pillow to shield himself from the other's persistent, harming hands.

"I-I didn't want you to know!"

"Why? You think I'd condemn you to death if I learned that you're gay?"

"No! That's not it!" Alfred launched himself forward, tackling his brother for the second time with the pillow being pressed on the other's arms. "I'm not fucking gay, Mattie!"

"You're in a relationship with a man for almost four months! Four freaking months, Alfred. Are you kidding me?"

He stilled upon hearing how long he and Arthur have been playing their game of pretend. Had it already been that long? When he tried to think of it seemed unbelievable. How could they have survived for four fucking months?

Noticing his brother had stopped struggling beneath him, he pulled himself up settled down with a troubled face. Alfred did not know where to start. He had so many things going on in his mind and he would not be at all surprised if a vein in his head would pop anytime soon. He did not want to lie to Matthew and that was the reason why he did not told the younger anything. If there was one person in the whole fucking universe he trusted with his problems, that would be his brother. But still, that did not mean he could easily just pour out his thoughts and feelings to the other. He still felt uneasy and a little bit guilty to trouble the blond with the consequences of his stupidity.

"Al." He snapped out of his thoughts and looked unsurely at Matthew who looked really impatient with receiving no clear explanation. The other's darker blue eyes seemed to be analyzing him as well. "You have a boyfriend, but you're telling me you're not gay. It doesn't make sense."

"B-but love isn't supposed to m-make sense." Trembling fingers twisted and tangled in his already messy hair as he stared at his well polished floor. "I didn't love him at first you know. And sorry about telling you I'm not gay. It should be, I wasn't gay and I wasn't gay until yesterday. "

"You're making me more—"

"Confused? Well actually I'm confused myself! I mean, how could I have fallen in love with Arthur. He's just some hot guy I happen to uh, you know, get to work for me until god knows! And then one morning when I woke up, I saw him and then he was not just any guy anymore. Like, how did it happen? Most importantly, WHY? You saw the state of my home, right? It became like that because I was trying to find answers but guess what? I found none! None at all and it's driving me crazy and—"

"Okay shut up."

A pillow was forcedly pushed in his mouth and it remained glued to him as Matthew made sure not another word would escape his lips. The younger man looked a lot more confused yet at the same time, enlightened as he finally had the first piece of Alfred's puzzle.

"What do you mean when you said he works for you? You made him your secretary? Personal assistant? House cleaner?" Matthew swallowed the lump on his throat and bit his lip which made Alfred assume that his genius brother had something to add with the things he enumerated. That something, however, was a very sick idea and the other bespectacled blond hesitated to say it in fear of the answer he was going to receive. "… your lover?"

"Do I really have to answer that?" He wiggled his brows suggestively.

"Fuck!"

It was one, solid outburst from Matthew and Alfred did not know if he was going to be amused at it or not. He stared right back into his brother's wide, shocked eyes that were close to falling out. He had his palms ready just in case. It would take a few minutes before the other recovered. A few eye twitches and staring in every corner there was in the room later, he heard Matthew sigh as he received a deadly glare.

"Do you have any idea how fucked up you are? You are in deep shit Alfred Jones!"

"Don't say my full name. You sound like mom."

"Can you please be serious?" Matthew bit back and to the man's relief, the harsh tone had his lips zipped. "What were you thinking!? And for how long do you actually plan to pull this thing?"

The inevitable lecture began and Alfred watched the stressed man walk to and fro from left to right. Slowly as his eyes followed his brother, his attention drifted away and soon he was not hearing any of what Matthew was saying. Well except when the blond would mention the Englishman's name, his head would perk up but only for a moment before he would once again entertain his own thoughts about Arthur.

Oh god, he missed the Brit already and it had only been two or so hours since he left the sandy blond's apartment. Maybe he should have waited for Arthur to wake up? But then he had no idea what excuse to give after everything that happened. He still felt guilty though, about their fight. It was his fault in the first place. As much as he hated to admit, 'shit face' was innocent. Well, now that he remembered Francis…

'Damn it.'

The French man for sure took advantage of the time he was gone. Just imagining Francis talking with Arthur made his blood boil. What more the image of the man playing with the Brit's hair? He had a wild imagination and it was not that hard to picture worst case scenarios.

"Hey! Are you still listening to me?"

He had to see Arthur soon, and by soon he meant now. Besides, he felt bad for leaving the sandy blond's home in the first place, and he did not want to assume but he wanted to think that Arthur felt lonely without his presence.

"Why the hell are you blushing!?"

His day dreaming was put to an end when Matthew hit his face again with a pillow. Though when he turned to look at him, his eyes showed that he had no idea what his brother had been rambling about. To add to the other's dismay, Alfred blinked his eyes as if he just woke up from a good night's sleep and he was suddenly at a loss. His mind simply went black with the pillow punching out his capacity for thinking for a moment.

"I'm sorry. What?"

Matthew groaned and stretched out his arms towards his brother, only to pull them back with his fists clenched as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath in for the sake of keeping his cool.

Alfred took this chance to stand up and flee towards the bathroom. It was not like he wanted to disregard Matthew's

efforts in presence, he was simply excited to see Arthur again and make up to him. He did not have a plan yet, but he will think about that later. All that mattered as of now was to get to Arthur before anyone else.

Before he could even hear his name being angrily called from the living room, the gushing sound of water filled the small space. It felt relaxing and refreshing to finally wash away the little smell of alcohol that still clung to him. But a part of him kind of regretted taking a bath for a very embarrassing reason that caused him clumsily drop the bottle of shampoo— he did not want to scrub off the part of his skin where Arthur touched and possibly cuddled with when they were asleep.

Immediately dismissing his shameless thoughts about the Brit, Alfred hurried finish and get out, wrapping a towel around his waist and let his soaked hair decorate the floor with unstoppable droplets of water that crawled off the strands.

When he opened the door, he felt relieved to see Matthew busy on his kitchen with a bowl and whisk on his hand. Where did the other get the whisk? After staring for a few seconds, he realized he should not have been surprised at all. The square thingy on the table gave him a good guess. Even with his blurry vision, Alfred could tell that it was a box of pancake flour.

Matthew had his back turned against him, whistling as he cracked the eggs and professionally had yolk flowing down the mix. The blond was already in a good mood in just a few minutes and he really should not bother him at the moment.

Unfortunately as he turned on his heels, he heard his name being called with menace dripping on his brother's tone. "Alfred."

He was in big trouble. Their mother was a scary woman when she was angry, and in Matthew's case the fear meter tripled. Matthew did not shout nor would he throw random, degrading insults and curses towards a person whom he was very pissed at. Instead, he was the calm type, asking innocent questions that would eventually lead you to the point of no return. He never shouted, no, and Alfred truly wished he just did.

"I'm really sorry!" He clasped his hands and closed his eyes as if praying to his brother to spare him. "I need to see Arthur right now and I can't waste time doing nothing! Don't get me wrong. I really missed you and I look forward to spend awesomeness with you bro, but you see Arthur and I had this little— no, big, big, big fight and if I don't make out— up with him, it might be the end of our f-friendship! It's… it's the only thing I'm holding on to. I can't lose it."

His voice almost cracked as he ended his short apology speech and he was too busy controlling his emotions to notice that Matthew was actually looking at him like he was the biggest idiot in the world.

"I'm not planning to stop you." At this, Alfred looked up and saw the other looking just as puzzled as him. "I'm just really worried about you, you know? You got yourself in pretty deep shit. What exactly are you planning to do?"

The question seemed to make time still for a moment. But a moment was all he needed to know how to answer it. "I have no idea."

"Of course." Matthew rolled his eyes and sighed. "You'll have to think about it though."

"I know that. I'll do the thinking sometime soon."

"For now you have to see your 'boyfriend.'" The other gestured quotation marks in the air and even if he knew what it meant, he could not help but feel flustered at the thought. Completely unaware of his reddened cheeks, he nodded his head and smiled which earned him a grin from his brother. "Off you go then. I'll just add this to the list of things you owe me."

Alfred had no idea if he should feel happy about the scary possibilities his brother might ask him or make him do in order to make up to him, but still he smiled and his eyes brightened when he learned that he was finally let go to enjoy the rest of his day.

Glancing at his now dust free wall clock above his television, the American leaped and was in his room in less than a second to dress up and make himself presentable.

He was going to see Arthur and he felt very excited. Nothing was going to get in his way and he swore he would straighten things out. He promised to himself that the events that happened in the past three days will never, ever occur again.

He will never make Arthur worry. He will never disappoint him. He will never hurt him and he will protect him no matter what.

* 

Francis did not have to look up away from his papers just to see who his next visitor was. Just by the sudden dark aura that almost drove everyone in the clinic away was enough to know that the persistent Ashley once again intended to ruin his already ruined day.

"I know what you did."

She spoke and welcomed herself in the seat across him but he ignored her. "You had them fighting. I'm really impressed."

Maybe if he kept ignoring her she would go away.

"Alfred lost his shit. He hasn't left his home for three days now. I plan on going there again today."

"Then fucking go. I don't care."

He finally snapped and glared at Ashley, his fingers threatening to snap the pen in his hold. Hearing more of what the dreaded woman was saying was making him lose his shit as well. His last three days did not go well, contrary to what he expected. Alfred's lack of presence in Arthur's life did not in the least help him at all. Because every time he would try and get the Englishman's attention, he would only be looked at for a minute and then after a while, even if those green eyes stared back in his own dark blue, he knew that he was not the man that Arthur saw. It was painful because he was the one there with the Brit, but it was like he was invisible.

"Ooh. Temper honey." Ashley laughed ungracefully. "Did everything not go according to your fantasies?"

"And I believe you're one to talk?" He raised a brow and tossed the pen on his desk as he sat straight, leaning back on his swiveling chair with crossed legs. "Did you manage to make Jones fuck you? I don't think you even got him to touch even the tip of your hair."

A small smile graced his stressed features as Ashley's fingers curled on his desk. The playful grin on the woman's face dissolved into that of angered.

"You're in no position to tell me that. I doubt—"

"Arthur spent the night at my place on the same day he and Alfred fought. We watched movies together and drank wine. He slept with his head resting on my shoulder, his body curled up next to mine. What about you? Were you able to do the same things with your pretty boy?" Francis shook his head and leaned forward on his desk to agitate her even more. "He won't even talk to you, Ashley. He won't because he did not want to. And he didn't want to because—"

"Shut up!" She stood up abruptly, almost sending her chair flying against the wall. An accusing finger pointed at the grinning Frenchman. "I'll show you. I'll fucking show you and make you regret not teaming up with me! You're not gonna get him Francis. You're never gonna get him! You know why? Because despite everything you do, you cannot make him love you! Proud of your bonding moments? Hah! I'm willing to bet on my life that he would rather spend an hour of silence beside Alfred than enjoy the rest of the fucking day with you."

Ashley huffed and spun on his heels. She headed for the door, opened it forcedly and slammed it close that the noise it made reached and bounced off the walls on the dull, hospital corridor.

It was peaceful again around him. Francis stared at the door, not really knowing if he expected someone to enter right after he was left alone. Maybe he expected someone, not a specific person, but just anyone. He exhaled a shaky breath in realization. Ashley was right. Everything she told him was right to the damn core and it only made him feel miserable all the more.

Even so, it was still too early to give up. A lot of things still needed an explanation. Arthur's feeling for Alfred were not confirmed yet and to hell with all the signs that told him the Brit was in love with said American. He would be the victor after everything ended. He would have Arthur and would take him back to London or Paris, or anywhere. Just the two of them like he always dreamed of.

But for now, he would admit defeat and let his tears have their way for the first time.

*

"Is he alright?"

"He looks better."

"But at the same time he looks really, really bad."

"You mean dangerous?"

"Uh huh."

The rest of the staff was gossiping again with him inside the same room, obviously close enough to hear what they were saying. It amused Arthur to no end but he decided to ignore them. It was not like they were back-stabbing him or something. Leaving them alone, he continued to rummage through his locker in search for anything that can distract him from his thoughts about what happened last night. After a minute of finding nothing worth his time, he backed away and closed his locker then shot his gossiping friends on the other side of the room a smart-assed look before disappearing outside with a smile meant for the public.

The disappearance of his presence in the staff room made Gilbert, Scott, and Bella breathe out a sigh of relief though they still were worried about his well being. He did not carry the regretful-slash-sickly aura anymore; rather he possessed an intense, don't-talk-to-me-I-hate-humanity-aura. That was a good sign since he really was a bit hot- headed in the first place. It was only as if his usual attitude jumped a few steps higher. His friends really did not know if they will consider it good or bad.

"I thought I was gonna die!"

"You're over reacting. Arthur's not capable of murder."

"I don't think so."

"Then why don't you go ahead and find out?"

"Fuck you. Go away. I'm too awesome to die early."

Just as they were recovering from the heavy atmosphere that seemed to choke them, the back door that led outside burst open and revealed a certain blond man they did not expect to see. It almost gave them a heart attack.

"Oh, hey guys!" Alfred cheered and welcomed himself in, not forgetting to close the door behind him slowly as to not make a noise. "Is Artie here? I really need to talk to him."

Wide eyes looked at him with shock and amusement that he weirdly felt the urge to run away.

"It's Alfred." Bella pointed.

"No. It's the messiah." Gilbert 'corrected' with conviction.

"It's the chosen one." Scott supported.

"It's salvation." The German added again.

The American raised a brow and looked at the others with uncertainty. Did he come to the right place? Was it not a restaurant where he went but instead he entered a mental institution? The door that led towards the kitchen opened and all their heads turned to see who it was. At the sight of Elizabetha, Alfred smiled and mentally thanked the heavens that at last, there was a sane person in the room. Though the new comer looked equally shocked like the rest and he did not know why. But it did not matter. At least he had someone to properly talk to, hoping that his simple question 'where is Artie?' will be answered.

Elizabetha snapped out of her thoughts and expertly locked the door before pushing Alfred on a chair which made him gasp. The woman towered before him with crossed arms and a not so amused face, slightly similar to what his brother wore when he first saw him. It gave him a bad feeling about it.

"Long time no see, Alfred. Now can you please tell why you made Arthur cry?"

"W-What!?"

As the question sank in, his eyes widened in shock and dread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a long while to update and it will surely take me another long, long while to update again. So while I'm busy  
> drowning in school work, I will leave you with a little something for the next chappie. Kinda spoils it so feel free to ignore if you hate spoilers. Lol.  
> Thanks for everything! Feel free to tell me what you think. SNEAAAAK peek:  
> "Well then, everyone, you don't mind me taking out my sweetheart for a date do you?" "Jesus has spoken."  
> "Will you please shut your bloody blasphemous mouth?" "God save the Queen."  
> "Bloody fuck, Gilbert!" "…so, can we go now?"  
> (I just want to marry Gilbert, you know? Haha.)


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated sooner than expected. You have our class suspensions to thank.   
> HELLO!

Alfred's jaw dropped and so did the other three's who were seated at the other end of the wooden table. He cannot believe what he was being accused for. Arthur cried because of him? He made Arthur cry? No matter how he jumbledthe words it was clear as day that he had something to be extremely guilty about. But why would the Englishman cry? Did he really hurt him that much? Alfred felt like a total asshole at that very moment and he was at a loss on what to do. He cannot even react properly.

"I'm asking you, golden boy. Why did you make Arthur cry?"

"What are you talking about Liz? Arthur didn't—" Before Gilbert could even finish talking, the woman addressed to sent him a glare that promised the worse. With the words dying in his mouth, the German covered everything with a nervous laugh and wild nodding of his head. "I mean, y-yeah Arthur cried! Like, really!"

"Uh huh!" Bella supported with a grin threatening to appear on her face as she knew what exactly the other woman was trying to pull.

"Totally." Scott simply was just as scared as Gilbert.

The three's convincing looks made Alfred feel like complete shit and he just wanted to literally dig his own grave at the very spot where he sat. It looked like he was heading there anyway. It felt like he was under a court trial with Liz as the prosecutor and the other three the jury. He had to defend himself, but he did not know how. There was no excuse for what he did. It was not like he could tell them that he…

"Well Alfred, it seems that you're having difficulty in answering my question so let's do this step by step shall we? Good." He was not even given the chance to answer.

The moss-eyed woman pulled a chair and sat across him with crossed legs and arms. Alfred bit is inner cheek. The interrogation was officially starting and the more he sat in the hot seat, the more he did not want to see Arthur. It was embarrassing and it was very selfish of him.

"Almost all of us know that something bad happened that fateful day. We could hear you guys shouting from the kitchen and apparently, Arthur lost his cool because of you. Now, ever since he went out that door," She pointed at the door behind her which led to the kitchen. "he became distant and was not his usual self."

"He never talked to anyone unless needed." Bella said from the side and the other two males nodded their heads in agreement.

"Also, 'queenie' lost his bite. I tried teasing him but he only smiled at me. Smiled! I'm sure we all know here that Arthur never smiles at me unless I'm in tremendous pain." Scott pointed out and stressed every word he said.

"Well, he didn't throw me his shoe nor did he kick my balls these past three—no, four days." Gilbert added while a confused look painted his face. To Alfred, it was as if the German yearned for the physical abuse rather than liking the absence of it.

"I understand Bella's point but, I'm not sure with the two of you." The American's brows furrowed. "Ain't that a good thing?"

At this, the two males' eyes widened and their palms slammed on the table in unison as they rose from their chair, looking at Alfred with disbelief.

"That is absolutely ridiculous of you to say! If anything, he's scarier like that!"

"Uh huh!"

"Gilbert, you're not much of any help."

"Uh huh!"

Elizabetha sighed and motioned the two to sit down again before turning to look at Alfred.

"You get what I mean?" She asked but she was not really expecting the American to answer. "Arthur's not the kind of person who keeps his phone in his pocket during work as to avoid any disturbances. He does check it from time to time but he never brings it with him out there. However, recently he did nothing but check his phone every minute as if he was waiting for a call or text or someone to just magically appear and crawl out from the screen. Obviously, the only person we could think about is you."

"But what about Francis?"

"Francis had always been here trying to cheer up Arthur."

Alfred swallowed as he took in the information from her. He knew it. He fucking knew it. That shitfaced man did take advantage of his absence and there was no one else to blame but himself! Biting his inner cheek, he unconsciously balled his fists on his lap and stared past the woman in front of her. Said woman did not fail to notice the sudden change in him and so she quickly added, "But each time, he failed. Arthur remained 'un-Arthur.' He'd smile just for the sake of smiling and to keep us from worrying."

From the corner of his eyes, he could see the other three nodding in agreement though they appeared like bubble heads in cabs. It was hard to take them seriously when they acted like goofballs.

"Then we were all surprised when he cried." Elizabetha's tone changed. "Arthur never cried. He's a strong person so it was really a shock for all of us to see him cry."

"His eyes were sore and red and they became bulgy."

"He cried a river of tears."

"He was like Cyclops from X-Men."

"Shut up Gil." She glared at him and he immediately averted his gaze. The two beside him only shook their heads with what looked like disappointed faces. She tilted her head to the side and looked at Alfred seriously in the eye. "I guess everyone has their limit, and apparently Arthur already reached his."

"If you only saw how much he cried." Bella closed her eyes to add more drama. "He sat there at that very chair you're sitting on as he poured his heart out and there was nothing we could do."

"He almost had an asthma attack. He was hyperventilating." Scott clenched a fist above his heart then pursed his lips as if attempting to hold back a sob.

"He—"

"Don't say anything." Elizabetha quickly stated before Gilbert could continue his sentence. If she were someone else, Gilbert would have ignored her. Fighting back the urge to talk back, he pouted and rolled his eyes, leaning back begrudgingly on his seat with crossed arms.

Alfred did not know what to say. Did he have to say anything in the first place? The four of them were obviously trying to guilt-trip him and it was working because what they said sounded true. It was not impossible either. What was he to do? Did he still have the guts to see Arthur after everything he heard? He was not ready for this. He did not have a plan to start with and was relying on the flow of life to lead him. But the situation now was different as it took an unexpected turn. It called for the need to plan, the need to ready himself mentally and emotionally. Physically as well just in case Arthur decided he deserved to be the Brit's personal punching bag for the day or week or month.

As he was slowly dissolving in his own guilt driven thoughts, the other four continued with their drama. Elizabetha was still trying to get an answer from him but with each second he would not respond, she would describe Arthur's crying moment in detail and the other three were not exactly helping him in regaining focus to snap back in the real world. Guilt was eating him; regret was close to killing him.

"He was very sad."

"Very, very sad."

"His tears poured down like Niagara falls."

"Niagara falls? What the fuck is that?"

"We had to give him three glasses of water or else he's gonna be dehydrated."

"We almost rushed him to the hospital."

"Hey, what's Niagara falls?"

"Gilbert, stop ruining the moment."

"He cried so hard that the only reason he's not crying anymore is that his tears probably ran out already."

_"And we all know that is complete bullshit."_

The sudden entry of a new voice with a distinct, British accent silenced the whole room. Alfred's head shot up the moment he heard it, and it was without a doubt his Artie standing by the door with a scowl. Elizabetha stood up abruptly in shock.

"How did you get in? I locked the door." She asked with a confused face.

"I have a key. We all have a key, have you forgotten?"

"But, I should have heard it click."

"You should have. But you were too busy telling Alfred a bed time story that you didn't notice me opening the door and hearing just about enough of what you guys were making up." Arthur stated in a mocking tone. Letting go of his hold on the door, he pushed it closed and looked at Elizabetha knowingly as if telling her that what he just did was the right and proper way of closing a door. He then leaned back against it and crossed his arms. It was only then that Alfred was able to register what was happening and he muttered the Englishman's name instinctively.

"A-Arthur?"

"Hello, Alfred. I hope you didn't believe anything that these wankers told you." If the others found Elizabetha terrifying, Arthur stood a few level above her because the woman herself slowly backed away until she was at a safe distance beside the Gilbert, Bella, and Scott who were now playing innocent.

"Art—"

"I didn't cry." Arthur clarified but Alfred refused to believe for reasons. The man was an expert when it came to playing 'pretend' in almost any given situation he deemed it necessary. After four months of knowing Arthur, despite it being only a short time for him, he knew how the Brit was good at acting and he was not going to fall for that.

Noticing his doubtful face, the Englishman rolled his eyes and looked at him.

"For god's sake Alfred, I really didn't. Liz," Arthur turned his towards where the addressed woman stood. "Tell him you're lying. Please."

The last word was not meant to make him sound polite despite the irritated tone and Elizabetha knew that full well. Rather, it was Arthur being his usual sarcastic self. It was not a plea, it was a command and there was no way she dared go against an annoyed Arthur even if it was against her will.

"Well, yeah. We were lying. I wanted to uh, squeeze some juicy information and I thought it was the best method to use. It was working, actually, but Arthur unfortunately caught me in the act. Boo." She then crossed her arms and pouted, rolling her eyes in defeat.

"And there you have it." Arthur said with satisfaction.

"So, does that mean you're… not angry at me?" Alfred hesitated at first but continued anyway to test the waters. He pursed his lips and observed how Arthur's face quickly transformed from pissed to shocked as he did not expect that question when he should have been, and then back to being pissed.

"I didn't cry, but that doesn't mean I'm not pissed with you because I am actually really, really cross with what you did." The Brit answered sharply and in an obvious effort to contain his anger. Alfred's hopeful face fell.

"Of course you are, and that's the reason why I'm here. I want to apologize." He stood up and smiled a little just to rid of the heaviness of the guilt that weighed his heart down. "Let me make it up to you. There's a really good cake shop only five minutes away from here."

"And so?" Arthur raised a thick brow and tried not to show any interest in Alfred's invitation.

"And so I was thinking that maybe we could—"

"No."

Despite the blank face and monotone voice however, the American knew that he just hit something in the Englishman. With the way the other's green irises lit up at the mention of the cake shop, he could tell that Arthur would have said 'yes' if it were any other peaceful day. That meant that at the end of the day, he would be successful at taking Arthur out with him. Just that thought was enough for him to feel motivated.

"I'm not taking 'no' for an answer."

"I'm afraid you don't really have a choice."

Arthur seemed to be determined on saying no. Despite the look in his eyes that showed how much he wanted to just give in and be done with it, that he really wanted to enjoy laughing with Alfred again, the American knew that he needed more than his charm and wit to win. It was not part of his plan, and he never thought that he would be doing this. Without giving himself time to debate on what he was going to do, he fell down on both knees and kneeled before the now, wide- eyed Brit with his hands holding tight the warm, pale hand.

He heard gasps on one side of the room where his former interrogators watched with hanging jaws the shocking turn of events. He was surprised himself. The only moment he ever considered kneeling in front of someone was when he would propose to a lovely lady with a diamond ring in between his fingers. Only now, rather than a pretty girl, he had Arthur's image in mind and that thought was enough for him to successfully pull what he was doing.

"Damn it, Alfred! You— are you mad? What the hell do you think you're doing?" The Brit tried to pull him up from the floor but he firmly held the other's slim arms, forcing him to look directly in his eyes.

"I was thinking about going to the cake shop, buy you a cake, and buy you anything you want though of course I know that ain't enough for you to forgive me—ah! Ow!"

His words were cut short when Arthur's free hand pulled on his cowlick harshly. It was damn painful and he swore he saw a few strands of his hair come off when the Brit withdrew his hand to pull his arm and try to make him stand up.

"Get up!"

"No!" He pulled his own arms down but Arthur only pulled them up again.

"Get up or else!" The Englishman threatened and he flinched in fear of another surprise attack to his rebellious hair.

"I don't care! I just want to talk to you! I want to apologize properly about what happened. I was being a dick! And I—"

"Fine!"

Alfred stopped talking immediately and stared at Arthur with wide, hopeful eyes.

"I'll fucking go now please stand up."

He complied in an instant and pulled Arthur in a tight embrace. It startled the Englishman, though oddly enough the four people on the side watched them as if everything was normal and expected to happen. If anything, the two women were exchanging high fives while the other two males sighed and rolled their eyes as if relieved that everything was finally over. Alfred ignored them and decided not to give them much thought as he gave Arthur on last squeeze before letting him go.

"I knew you'd say 'yes' Artie! I knew you would!"

"I didn't have a choice." Arthur countered but the American knew that it was not an excuse.

With a huge smile on his face, he draped his arm over the shorter male's shoulders and pulled him closer again then faced their grinning spectators in the room. The only person who seemed not amused at all was of course, the scowling Englishman under his wing and he cannot help but find how cute Arthur was being despite the long list of curses coming out from his mouth.

"Well then, everyone, you don't mind me taking out my sweetheart for a date do you?"

He winked at them then laughed when Arthur tried to step on his foot. He easily dodged the attack. The other three nodded their heads encouragingly while Gilbert had his palms together with his eyes closed.

"Jesus has spoken."

"Will you please shut your bloody blasphemous mouth?"

"God save the Queen."

"Bloody fuck, Gilbert!"

"…so, can we go now?" Alfred turned his head and met Arthur's eyes. They were so green and bright, and oh god he missed looking at them.

"I'm in the middle of my work."

"Well, that didn't stop me before." He answered proudly and it all but earned him an elbow to the gut though it was a gentle hit so he managed to simply laugh at it.

And just before Arthur turned his head away to look at the opposite direction— in what Alfred assumed as an effort to hide his reddened face though he could tell from the Brit's ears— he was quite positive that he saw a very small smile spread across the other's lips. He was also pretty sure that he felt the man lean on him a little, giving Alfred the liberty to fantasize and assume once again.

Maybe Arthur missed his company. Maybe, just like him, Arthur missed being in his touch. And maybe, Arthur missed Alfred because he was Alfred. He was not sure, but it was good enough for him to feel he was already in heaven.

* 

When Ashley finally got inside her car, she let out the scream she had been trying so hard to contain. The nerve of the French man! She thought. He could not do this to her! He had no right to. Francis should be the last person on Earth to slap her with the painful truth. The blond man should be sharing her anger and pain, not helping her feel worse. That good for nothing bastard— he was not going anywhere with the way he was acting.

Her hands pounded on the wheel three times and exhaled all the bad vibes, the air passing through her nose as she bit her lower lip. She leaned back and tried to calm down while constantly reminding herself that she should not be acting that way. She was nothing like Francis with the silent attacks. It was not going to bring her any good.

She should be aggressive. Fate and destiny, and whatever fucked up word that meant the same already proved to be unreliable. If she really wanted to win Alfred, she better not act like a French loser. The sweet gestures were not going to work. She needed to be direct, to go straight to the point. She should kiss Alfred on the spot the moment she saw him, tell the American how much she wanted him and how they really were the destined one.

Arthur was just a phase, he had to be, so she needed to tell him off and slap the Brit with the painful truth just like what Francis did to her. She was going to tell him that he better fuck off while it was still early to avoid getting hurt before it was too late. Alfred was too tough to handle, so she had to strike at Arthur first and then everything will be easy. Especially now that they were on bad terms, it would be easier to convince him that they should officially break up.

With a stronger resolve, she started up her car and drove off. The image of Arthur's happy face flashing in her mind made her step on the gas without a care for the speed limit. She went past red lights and the angry shouts of other drivers along with their honking horns dissolved behind her as she played deaf. It was only a matter of minutes when she was already on her feet with her car improperly parked on the gutter. A short haired woman with enormous yet natural bouncing breasts greeted her at the door and offered assistance but she shooed her away, completely pissed off why a middle class girl was naturally gifted. The girl immediately took many steps away but it made he feel agitated. Was she ugly for her to back up?

Ignoring her existence, she walked past tables and chairs all the while ignoring the attention she was getting. Her feet heavily stomped on the floor as she approached the doors of the kitchen. It was restricted from non-employees but no one dared stop her which gave her a feeling of superiority. The kitchen was busy but when she entered, the time inside that enveloped the usually buzzing place came to a stop. Liking the silence, Ashley smirked and crossed her arms, then carefully eyed everyone in the room.

"Where is Arthur?" She asked authoritatively but it only earned her confused faces, shaking heads, and shrugging shoulders along with a few whispers. So she repeated with the smirk on her face completely disappearing. "I said, where is Arthur!?"

The few people the stood close to her flinched when she raised her voice but still, no one had the guts to answer. She could tell though, from the way they looked at her that they recognized her and it was without a doubt because of the horrible 'misunderstanding' months ago. Who could ever forget that? Especially when Arthur's mere presence in the place served as a constant reminder of what had transpired. So surely, they all knew her as the victim of all these things.

"Oh my gosh you're all useless!" She screamed and proceeded to bring himself towards the staff's locker-slash-resting- slash-sleeping room. Arthur should be in there, because she was quite sure he was not on duty outside. If he was there, she would have seen him.

The wooden door flew open and hit the wall with a loud bang which startled the people inside. She eyed them suspiciously and the four simply stared back at her with clear familiarity. Actually, it looked like they knew more than who she was as they began to turn their heads and meet each other's gazes.

"Where's Arthur?" She asked and just like a minute ago, she got the same silent treatment. "I said, where the fuck is Arthur?"

"Um, he's not here." The green eyed woman spoke with a soft, unsure smile and the other three behind her nodded their heads in unison.

"Why? Where'd he go?"

"Actually, he just left." It was the other blond girl who answered and red head beside her talked next.

"Yeah, like minutes ago with—"

"Jesus. Jesus has taken him."

"Stop it. It's not funny anymore." The first woman who spoke to her hit the silver haired man in the head before smiling back at Ashley in apology but she was having none of that. The red hair was going to mention a name, and it gave him a feeling that it was of vital importance that she find out who Arthur was with.

"He left with…?" She pushed and the four tensed up once again. It gave her a bad feeling.

"Alfred took him out."

"WHAT?" Her scream made them jump. She stepped forward and they immediately scrambled taking steps back while hiding behind the green eyed woman who was so far, the only person who was not giving her a hard time. "W-why? But he has work! Why was Alfred here!? Where did they go?"

"W-well he mentioned something about going on a… a d-date and—"

"Good god!" She pounded her fists on the table and the trembling bunch across her almost reached out to stop her in fear of it breaking. "Did they mention a place? Like, a park or a café or, uh, or a motel?" She asked with panic in her voice.

"They were going to a cake shop!" The silver haired man exclaimed and it earned him looks of disbelief and hisses from his companions but he looked completely clueless about what was being sent to him. To justify this he added, "You know, the one a few blocks away with the teddy bear on the sign?"

That was all the information she needed to finally leave the place. Her heels tapped furiously against the tiled floor that it almost cracked and the door the led directly outside was opened and banged just the way the other door did when she made her attention seeking entrance.

It was then at the time she disappeared completely behind the door when the four staff members were able to finally breathe normally. But the man with the silver hair who was undeniably Gilbert was not spared from Elizabetha's fingers as he found himself almost choking with the firm grip on his neck.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!" She shouted and the other two tried to separate the two from creating a murder history in the establishment. "Why did you tell her? Do you know what you just did?"

"Liz, calm down!" Bella tried to pull her arms away while Scott tried to have her fingers release the poor German's neck.

"They're finally together again you dumb fuck!" Elizabetha's fingers now found their new target which was Gilbert's hair and scalp. She pulled them and the efforts of Bella and Scott only added to the pain the victim felt. "I can't have them separated again!"

"Motherfu—Ow! Ow, ow, ow, son of Satan ow! God!"

Gilbert gasped and tried to push all of them away. The noise they were making took the attention of the people in the kitchen but they failed to notice their new found audience who had no idea if they were supposed to laugh or try and stop them.

"It's for the better!" The German tried to reason but it only made his attacker more aggressive.

"How's that for the better? For all we know she could murder Arthur!"

"You're murdering me!"

"Oh, am I being too obvious with my intentions?

Knowing that they were not going to solve anything with the physical abuse, Bella sighed and removed herself from the violence that was taking place. Instead, she fetched her bag and took her phone out.

With one last glance from the three who were left, she had Arthur's number on her screen and the ringing that followed only seemed to stretch time she could not afford to lose.

* 

They both stood before the old lady who was currently decorating their cake (as Alfred insisted for a customized one) when Arthur's phone rang. The American was too busy talking and pointing out the different colored toppings he wanted for their cake and Arthur thought he would not mind not contributing with the decorations at all. He took his phone out from his pocket and upon seeing Bella's name, he could not help but wonder why she was calling him. Something must have happened again and he felt uneasy. What if there had been an emergency at the restaurant and they needed extra hands? Then he would have to leave Alfred even if he did not want to.

Not that he really had a choice, he chose to answer his phone and prayed that he was not needed at the workplace. "Hello Bella, what is it?"

"Arthur! Where are you!?"

"Don't you want to take a guess?"

"No! But whatever. If you're at the cake shop right now, you need to leave."

He raised a brow. "Huh? Why?"

"Ashley's coming. She went here and scared the shit out of us and boom!" Arthur could hear people shouting from the background and it was not hard to tell that the noises were coming from the usual bickering duo: Gil and Liz. He could only wonder what on Earth happened for the two to fight again. He then heard Bella gasp and shifting noises before a new voice spoke through the phone.

"It's all Gilbert's fault! He told her where you are! I'm really sorry but if you want to save your date you need to go!" It was Elizabetha and he swore he heard Gilbert's muffled voice trying to say something but the crash that followed told Arthur that he was never going to know what it was. Bella's voice came through again.

"Just trust us okay? And everything's fine here just in case you're wondering. Nothing out of the usual I suppose."

Arthur laughed at this and then he heard Scott raining down curses and making everything and everyone bloody. Bloody Gilbert, bloody Liz, bloody table, bloody door, and finally, bloody Arthur.

"I got to go now. We don't want a crime scene here, do we? Take care you two! Have fun okay? Bye!" He heard Bella shout just before a soft click drowned the sounds of commotion away. The information then began to sink in and he stared at his phone a few second before he turned his head, only to find out that Alfred was already looking at him.

"Yo. What's up with Bella?" The American asked curiously and uncertainty took over the Brit's face.

"Ashley attacked the restaurant." He explained and tried to hide the small smile in his face which he had no idea why it was forming. It was not like he appreciated the oncoming trouble. "And now she is on her way here."

"Oh."

Alfred bit his lip and turned his attention back at the half finished cake. The lady was already old and so she was kind of slow with her movements. The small, yellow, candy flowers that were supposed to surround the cake were still laying beside it surely would take time. The lady's talkativeness slowed her down even more. It was not an issue moments ago, but it was now.

After a few seconds of spacing out, Alfred wore a mischievous look on his face and at the moment, he knew what exactly was going on in that American head.

Smiling, Alfred had his arm slither on Arthur's waist and pulled the Brit close to him that their noses almost touched. He was not able to react with what the other did and he only hoped that the woman before them was too old to notice what was happening. Before Arthur could even accuse him of sexual harassment, the taller blond quickly gave his excuse.

"I really want to finish this cake." Alfred glanced at it before looking back at him. "So if Ashley's coming, let her then. She will just have to see us like this. We're back to business to Artie."

Arthur scoffed and rolled his eyes but did not make any move with detaching himself from Alfred. Back to business, he said, of course he had not forgotten about that. It was the very reason why they were together in the first place so he had nothing to say.

"Whatever." The Englishman dismissed the conversation, knowing that Alfred surprisingly had a point. He could only feel sorry for the people he left back at work. Gilbert was probably getting his ass kicked because of this and the girls' efforts in warning them were in vain.

The bespectacled man grinned and returned back to watch their cake get done little by little and the woman who was professionally decorating it glanced up at them with a smile.

"So you're a couple. What are you celebrating today?" She asked innocently and Alfred was just too happy to answer.

"It's our fourth monthsary!"

"Monthsary?" She giggled and finally, finally took the yellow candy flowers then began putting them accordingly on the cake. "Goodness, couples nowadays. You celebrate everything!"

Alfred smiled widely and tried to watch Arthur's reaction from the corner of his eyes. He had his green eyes wandering on the other amazingly designed chiffon cakes. He felt Alfred's arm pull him a little closer but he decided to pretend he did not notice since, from the corner of his eyes, the American seemed not to be aware with what he did. He also noticed that the bright smile on the other's face seemed to shrink as if something was troubling him. What Alfred said next made his heart beat fast but…

"You know, good lady," Alfred said. "we should celebrate everything while it lasts."

But not in a good way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this! I'm going to continue their date on the next chapter but while I'm gone, here's something to look forward to:  
> "I like the way you look in my shirt."   
> "E-excuse me?"  
> BYE!


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After eating newspapers and news blogs everyday, I finally found the time to update. Enjoy!

Every time the shop's doors swung open, Arthur could not help but turn his head to check who it was. He felt Alfred's arm leave his waist to intertwine their fingers instead and his palm was given a soft squeeze which made him look up at the man beside him. It was not surprising really, to find those blue eyes looking back at him reassuringly. It was not a new thing for him to feel calm and safe with just the way Alfred stared and he was not going to deny it. The American was like walking sunshine, a quilt of positivity, the very definition of joy and carefree. So just by staring back at the taller blond, he was able to feel relaxed. A sigh escaped his lips. But still, that did not mean that the worry was gone. It was still there, and he still anticipated a certain blond, short-haired, operated woman to burst in the doors and make a scene any moment.

"The cake's done," Alfred pointed out and they both watched it being gently placed in a red box. "but Ashley's not yet here. She might have gotten lost."

He did not bother answer though he did consider that idea. Alfred's hand let him go and the sudden absence of the American's touch distracted him for a bit. His eyes followed the other's hand as it went to carefully pick up the box which was beautifully decorated with thick, white ribbon all around, a flower-like bow was placed on top.

"Cute, isn't it?" said Alfred and Arthur snickered at this as he poked the fluffy bow playfully. "I say it is quite… girly. Well I really cannot say I expected otherwise."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"

He answered the other with a mocking laugh as he stretched his hands out to get the box from Alfred's hold before turning to thank the old lady behind the counter. The American did the same as he fetched his wallet from his back pocket to pay while Arthur waited patiently beside him, admiring silently the way the cake's box was presented. It was a bit girly, yes, but he liked it very much. Even men nowadays have a thing for cute designs and even people. The Japanese moe-hentai genre in porn was enough proof for it but that did not mean he was one of those who fawned over those.

The doors opened and his head immediately shot up to see who it was. He felt relieved when he saw a complete stranger enter the shop.

"Stop worrying, Artie." He felt a warm hand pat him on the head and though he did not do anything to move away from the touch, he rolled his eyes at Alfred before staring at him with a bored expression. The American was already back to his easy going self and it was as if he had forgotten that Arthur still felt upset—no, scratch that. He was still _trying_ to feel upset. If he was going to be honest, he never actually was angry simply because for some magical reason, he cannot bring himself to feel that way. But that did not mean he was going to make it easy for the other.

"I'm not worrying," His voice came out sharper than he expected and he took note of how Alfred flinched. "I am still cross with you and this cake, no matter how cute it is—"

"So you like it! Of course you do!" Alfred's voice drowned away his words which made him glare as he was not able to finish what he was going to say. His eyes twitched and it took him a bit of effort to stop himself from returning the bright smile that the taller blond flashed. Before his lips could even show the slightest curve that might give him away, he turned his head and began walking out. The sudden change in his aura made the man's laughter stop as he followed closely behind Arthur as the realization hit him. "Um, I mean of course it's not enough. Sorry."

 _Oh it was more than enough_ , he thought as Alfred quickly walked ahead to push the doors open for him as both of his hands were occupied. He could see the sincerity reflected in the American's eyes, and so he let the tiniest of the tiniest smiles to show on his face as he went past Alfred for two reasons: to show his appreciation for opening the door, and to make the man feel at least a little better. Arthur was not that cruel.

Stepping out into the street, he looked left and right to check if there were any signs of— "Hello Arthur. What a coincidence."

Her timing was perfect but at the same time, it was too random. The moment Arthur turned to his right, he saw her getting out of her car with her eyes already trained on him and not Alfred even if said blond was barely standing an inch away beside him. He felt the American's arm around his waist again as he stood in a protective stance. There was no need for Alfred to act that way but he did not complain. Maybe his friend was just as concerned as him regarding the crossing of their paths. Arthur knew and he felt it, that even with the three of them wearing their own fake, sweet smiles, something was definitely wrong with the situation. There was something about Ashley that made him feel uneasy, and he assumed that the busty woman was much more serious than ever.

"And hello Alfred! I didn't know you were on a date!" She clasped her hands cheerfully before the smile on her face was replaced with a peculiar look. Her eyebrows were raised and she crossed her arms. "But, don't you have work today, Arthur?"

"I do. But Alfred was pretty persistent in checking this shop and obviously," he leaned noticeably in the man's chest. "I can never say no to him."

"Who can?" Ashley giggled and innocence slowly tried to cover up her true personality and intentions. She was returning back to acting like a stupid air-head, hoping that she would be convincing enough for the men to feel at ease and unthreatened in her presence. She had to separate Arthur from Alfred so she could brainwash the Englishman. "Well I better get going now. I don't really wanna get in the way of your reunion especially now that Alfred's recovered from his… depression."

Arthur stilled for a second and he knew with how Ashley's eyes lit up that he became too obvious and affected. He knew that Alfred sensed it as well as he felt the other's grip tightened around him. They were standing in an open space yet the air was becoming heavier. He was not ready for this. The Ashley in front of them now left her cheap tricks in her drawer and was now attacking them. Not that her words could affect him. Arthur did not give a damn about what was going on in her bitching brain. And so he did not understand why she managed to take out a reaction from him.

"If you only saw how he was so close to losing his… oh wait, actually he did! He almost went crazy." Ashley continued. "Didn't you know? But you're supposed to know that right? Don't tell me… OMG don't tell me—"

"Hey," Alfred interrupted with a laugh and rested his chin on top of Arthur's head. His smile spread from ear to ear yet his eyes glowed dangerously. Even if the Englishman cannot see Alfred's face, he could tell that it was menacing enough to make Ashley grit her teeth. Her smile failed to hide it. "Don't exaggerate. It was just a phase! Every couple goes through something like that and actually it's not that bad at all. Actually, Arthur went through his own version of hell as well! And that's the reason why— wait, why are you looking at us like that? Oh, oh, _didn't you know?_ Challenges like that make relationships stronger and greater than before. So right now, I am a hundred percent sure that _no one_ can break our bond." Alfred's smile fell and his voice became low as he ended his little speech. " _Not even you_. So you can now stop fucking trying. It is _not_ gonna get you anywhere."

If Ashley looked so shocked, Arthur could not really tell how he was twice more surprised than her. He swore that he sensed something in Alfred change. Not only did the man's tone was threatening, his hold on Arthur tightened as well. The way Ashley's eyes widened made him look up to see for himself what exactly she saw. But when he turned around, the bright smile on Alfred's face was there in its rightful place. Not a trace of being fearsome could be seen and the man looked down at him as if nothing had happened.

He wanted to say something, but he cannot think about anything. Ashley still looked shocked. Her blazing confidence was long gone and her eyes slowly drifted down towards the ground. It was making Arthur more curious. What on Earth did exactly happen just now?

"Let's go?" Alfred smiled, kissed his forehead and then took the box from his hand. He was not able to neither answer nor comprehend the soft kiss Alfred just did, and he found himself staring back at Ashley as the American's hand guided him inside the passenger's seat of his car. The box then was placed gently on his lap, the car's door was shut and Alfred jogged towards the other side and went in to sit on the driver's seat beside him. The engines hummed and the sceneries began to change. It took only a few seconds before Ashley's frozen figure disappeared from his sight. It was only then that he was able to let out the breath he did not know he had been holding.

Blinking rapidly, he pursed his lips and stared down at the box below him as he tried to gather his thoughts. "A-Artie?"

"Hm?" Arthur slowly trained his eyes on the American as he wondered what the other was going to say. From the way Alfred's face was painted with worry, he assumed that the man was not going to act as if nothing happened, as if he did not act weird at all.

"I— You—" Alfred laughed nervously and cleared his throat before taking a quick glance at him. "Did I scare you?"

It was not the kind of question he expected, but for some odd reason it made him smile. Perhaps he just did not want to see Alfred troubled because of him. And now that it was mentioned, he cannot help but remember what Ashley told him. The small smile that managed to hang on his lips quickly lost its grip as it fell back.

"Artie?"

"You didn't scare me." Arthur shook his head and leaned back on his seat. He closed his eyes and tried to calm his still pounding heart. "Was I supposed to be scared?"

"No."

"But did I scare you?" He asked quietly that his companion almost did not hear his question.

They pulled over as the light went red and Alfred took this opportunity to divert his eyes from the road to look at Arthur who still had his eyes closed. If the Englishman could only see the look on his partner-in-crime's face, he would have either laughed or felt guilty all the more.

"What do you mean?" asked Alfred and the Brit took in a deep breath before he responded.

"I was not scared when you spoke to Ashley like that." Arthur slowly opened his eyes and met Alfred's stare. "But I was scared when I heard nothing from you for the past three days." When the American's eyes widened, it quickly dawned on him how weird he sounded. He quickly turned his head to look outside the window. His chin up and his eyebrows furrowed in an attempt to return the scowl on his face. "D-don't get me wrong. I'm saying this because I'm your… friend. And I haven't forgiven you yet, mind you. You still haven't explained anything to me. I-I think I deserve one. But if you don't want to then it's also fine. But at least," He swallowed and bit his lip. The stress quickly catching up to him as he ranted and his mouth dropped every word heavily. He then turned to look at Alfred whose face did not at all change. "At least tell me that you did not lose your shit because of me, just like what Ashley said."

He did not get an answer for the first few seconds that passed, and even so, for Arthur it felt like eternity. Alfred attempted to speak, but the American ended up looking like a goldfish with his mouth seemingly undecided whether to remain opened or closed. When he heard the softest squeak of the other's voice however, it was quickly interrupted by the impatient honking of horns from the car behind them. Apparently, that light had turned green.

Alfred jumped in his seat as he quickly set the gears and drove. Arthur's question was still hanging in mid air and the Englishman feared that it would remain like that. He should not have asked, and maybe he should not have told the American that he had not yet forgiven him for what had happened three or four days ago. It was obvious that Alfred took his words to the core. Was the American's sudden drunken intrusion not enough proof?

"I'm sorry." Alfred finally said and it was followed by a shaky smile. "It's not surely the best of times to say this but I guess it can't really wait, can it? I really can't afford to see you cry." The bespectacled added the last bit teasingly in hopes of at lightening the mood even for a bit and Arthur knew this very well. Needless to say, the attempt was successful as he hit Alfred's arm upon instinct the moment he was indirectly accused of being a cry baby. The soft punch made the man laugh, and he only rolled his eyes at the other though he admitted to himself that he did feel better.

As the stressful aura lifted up, Alfred cleared his throat and started his apology all over again seriously this time.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know what got into me that day but I'm sure that Francis has something to do about it. I'm not gonna lie to you; I do really hate that guy's everything. He acts as if he knows all there is in this world and makes me look like I'm stupid especially when in front of you and I hate that."

Arthur was surprised with the things he was hearing but he decided to listen to everything that Alfred had to say even if most of what escaped the American's mouth were rants about Francis which he later on decided that it was something he should not be surprised about at all. Alfred was all glorious and proud just as much as the French man. He should have known it the very first time he saw the both of them together, sharing a table in the restaurant that nothing good would come out of their so-called friendship. There might have been no such thing to begin with.

He listened through it all, he carefully paid attention to every detail that Alfred told him. From the very first hour that passed since he slammed the door shut in the American's face. Arthur regretted doing that at the very first second after it was done. Alfred told him how he spent his first stressful day sulking in his apartment, how almost all of the items in the nearby convenience store ended up as worthless trash all over his room, how the pizza delivery boy grew so tired of seeing his face as he ordered pizza four times for three days until the American finally, finally decided to get his fat ass drunk and wasted.

For Alfred, he went through a simple stage of reflection and enlightenment, but for Arthur, the taller blond went through a horrible stage in his life which he did not deserve in any way. It did confuse him though, as to why Alfred went so far and why the man was so emotionally hurt with what he did. He never expected him to be that sensitive and that it would only take a door slam to feed him guilt.

"Now I know you're feeling bad about this but don't. Please don't or else I might really lose it. I know that the cake is just a meaningless way to try and win your forgiveness but—"

"It is not meaningless." Arthur interrupted. His hands slowly undid the ribbon that secured the box closed and the cake unharmed. He glanced at Alfred whose eyes were still trained on the road and whose face was slightly painted with confusion. He knew that the other cannot spare him a look as of the moment, and he took advantage of it by completely undoing and opening the box to reveal the colorful cake inside.

It was a round chocolate cake so it was pretty much normal for the chiffon to be coated by it. Yellow candy flowers were perfectly surrounding the patriotic design in the middle. It was a combination of their flags, American and the United Kingdom which were made from red, white, and blue sprinkles. He could only imagine the amount of cavities he was going to get with just one bite. How could Alfred tell him that the cake was meaningless? It was not and he was willing to argue with that if needed.

He scooped the light blue icing that swirled below the cake with his finger and when Alfred turned his head to look at him as the car was caught in heavy traffic, he did not think twice in staining the American's nose with it much to the man's surprise. The look on Alfred's face made him laugh and he mindlessly put the finger in his mouth to lick the remaining icing, completely unaware how this simple move made the man beside him almost lose consciousness.

"W-what was that for!?" Alfred exclaimed with his voice coming out in a high pitched squeak which only fueled Arthur's laughter. The man frantically wiped the substance away with his sleeve. "Don't laugh at me! You're not supposed to do that in the first place!"

"Why not?"

"Well because I'm driving!"

"And so?" He raised a brow in amusement before bursting out in another fit of laughter. The hilarity that Alfred's red face brought was squeezing the happiness out of him that he did not notice the car being pulled over at the side of the busy street until a few seconds after it stopped. His laughter slowly died when he realized that they were no longer mingling with the other cars in the highway, and then he found Alfred looking at him analyzing eyes. He sighed and rolled his eyes then looked directly, seriously at the seemingly confused and disappointed man. "The cake, it is not meaningless." He repeated.

Alfred still chose to remain quiet and Arthur did not know what to say next. He pursed his lips and his fingers somehow found the undone ribbon of the box to suddenly be interesting. How can one simple thing be so soft and beautiful and long and useful and… interesting? The silence was beginning to annoy him, and the fact that he was acting like a fool just to appear cool and calm and completely unfazed by the turn of events.

"You're not angry anymore?" The other's voice came out with an uncertain, measuring tone to which Arthur replied sounding like the complete opposite.

"I was just messing you. Did you really think I am capable of getting angry with you—" He stopped midsentence and cleared his throat. His choice of words was somewhat wrong and he paused for a second to revise it. "I mean, with your actions? I was pissed, yes, but I was not mad. The two are entirely different. Do you understand that?"

Alfred blinked his eyes and nodded sheepishly in his seat. Good lord, did the man not get that everything was fine? Arthur opened his mouth to voice out his thoughts but before he even could, the American beat him to speaking.

"And what about Ashley?" His eyebrows raised as another unexpected yet not so surprising question came out from Alfred's mouth.

"You were mean to her and I cannot believe I'm going to say this but"," He calmly said though he made sure that it sounded like he was not amused. When that spark of hope and joy within Alfred which he was able to bring back suddenly dimmed, Arthur smirked and folded his hands. "good job, Alfred Jones. I never knew you had it in you. Though I do think you went a little overboard and well, a bit cheesy with your lines, not that it was a bad thing. Just don't let it happen again, got it?"

As if he just casted a magic spell, the bespectacled blond's face lit up brightly though it took a two-second delay before the dark clouds in his head disappeared completely. The small smile that formed grew wider and wider spontaneously with Arthur's as his own lips stretched to his ears. They both snickered and it gradually turned into genuine laughter. Arthur thought that maybe Alfred happened to cast magic on him as well because if he was going to speak honestly based on his own, little observations regarding the odd friendship they shared, they both seemed to connect with each other well. When one of them was happy, the other should feel likewise. When one of them was sad, the other just had to feel down almost instantly as well. Alfred cannot be happy if Arthur was not and he thought that it was only right, and it felt right, but there was this little part of him that begged to differ.

Whatever that little part was, he assumed that it was of great importance and he must not to ignore it if he wished to retain his normal life. So Arthur decided he would listen to it and let it cling on his sleeve.

"Oh, so you like me being mean? This is interesting."

The warm breath that tickled his nose snapped him out of his thoughts, and it was then that he only realized how close Alfred managed to inch forward towards him. He was going to shriek in surprise but the air caught in his throat and his breath hitched. His mind went blank and puzzled and failed to function correctly so he did not have any idea as of the moment what a normal person, a guy for that matter, will do in such a situation.

"A-Alfred, what…was that all you understood with what I— eh?"

The sweet scent of chocolate and icing lingered closely in his nostrils and it was only logical since he found said substances resting on top of his nose. He had gone cross-eyed by looking at it, and the glorious laugh from Alfred told him that he looked absolutely funny at that very second. _This man_ , he thought, what did the other think he was doing?

"You've turned red."

"What!? I did not!" He furiously hit the other's arm before wiping away the sweet stuff the coated his nose with his handkerchief. Red? He had gone red? Well yeah maybe because of embarrassment, because of that damn cake icing that made him look funny and made Alfred laugh triumphantly after.

"Yes you did. You're red up to your ears!"

"I'm not! God, stop laughing!"

"But I thought you like the mean me?"

This made Arthur's eye twitch, and without saying anything he dipped his fingers right in the middle of the cake without a care about its appearance anymore, took a chunk of it and rubbed the food in the other's cheek without warning. This made Alfred stop laughing, his mouth agape at Arthur's triumphant grin. The amount that was on his cheek was not merely icing. When he touched it, he felt lumps of the chiffon and sprinkles. His eyes widened upon seeing the hole that Arthur made right in the middle of their precious cake and it was evident on his face that he was having mixed emotions about it.

After a while he decided he did not care anymore, and it was Arthur who started it in the first place so perhaps it was only right to fight back. He was not one to back out from a challenge after all.

Before Arthur knew it, he had the same amount of chocolate, sprinkles, and cake lumps on each cheek. He dug his fingers in once again without thinking, grabbed a handful, and with a hiss he threw it right at Alfred's face and the lump slid down ungracefully down the American's shirt, staining it messily in the process.

Arthur should have known that he just started a war with what he did.

The minutes that followed were spent on a wasteful cake fight. Both of the ceased to care about the consequences of their higgledy-piggledy actions as their priority was to dirty each other's clothes and faces as much as they can. Arthur's white, long sleeved polo which he wore for work was sure to go through hellish washing. He began to regret his decision on keeping his working clothes as he merely untucked it from his pants and removed the black bowtie around his collar so it would be easy for him to transform back as a straight, normal waiter when he returned to work.

But from the looks of it however, returning was entirely possible.

Alfred's glasses were long gone from his face and had been carelessly tossed at the back seat since it did nothing but to blind him from the Englishman's attacks. It was not like his eyes were completely useless without his spectacles.

Even without wearing them, he could still see every detail in Arthur's _lovely and perfect_ face. His shirt was just as dirty as the other's and their faces were on par when it came to the amount of the sticky chocolate that clung to their cheeks and hair.

It was only when Alfred's hand grabbed nothing but air did the two blonds realized that their customized cake no longer existed. It was only then that they both stopped and stared at each other with no idea what to do next.

"Ooooh shit." Alfred said and Arthur laughed after seeing the way the American's face looked so surprised. It was as if he had woken up from being hypnotized with the order to throw cake at the Brit.

"Oh bloody shit indeed. Look what you did to me!" He scoffed as he vainly tried to remove the tiny, colorful sprinkles from his sleeve. Alfred snickered beside him. "What?"

"We got dirty." The taller blond wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and it earned him one solid punch on his arm from the blushing Englishman. "Ow!"

"Stop talking like that you sodding git!"

"But it's true—ow, ow , fuck, okay, okay I'm sorry!"

Alfred laughed despite receiving several, stinging hits from the grumpy blond beside him. Said grumpy man turned his attention back at his soiled clothes and the sticky feeling from his face and neck made him squirm in discomfort and disgust.

"Ugh, gross. I cannot go back looking like this!" He exclaimed as he shook of the chocolate that hung in his fingertips which caused the substance flying and landing somewhere in the car seat. "To hell with that, I am not going back to work at all!"

"No shit. You're gonna need to take a shower." The American said as he stretched out to reach for his glasses behind his seat. He frowned when the lenses were evenly coated with icing and he wiped it using the inner side of his shirt. Arthur was too busy trying to save what little clean spot was left in his clothes. Just imagining how much time and effort he needed to return the cloth back to its pure white form. The trouble that he was going to go through dominated his thoughts that he paid very little attention to what Alfred was telling him. "You wanna borrow my clothes for the mean time?"

"Whatever." He said without really understanding what Alfred said while his eyes were trained on the yellow, powdery stuff on his pants which he assumed to be the tiny yellow flowers that surrounded the already dead cake. He pushed the particles off with the back of his hand.

"But my clothes are at home." Alfred wore his glasses, turned the key, and then the engines of his car began to buzz. His eyes wandered over Arthur's whole, uncomfortable form as he tried to see if the Brit's focus was a hundred percent on him and well, it was not. But he decided to continue talking anyway, a small smile already spreading across his face though he tried to restrain it just in case. "Do you mind if I take you there?"

"Do what you want." Arthur muttered too quickly right after. He clicked his tongue when the sticky substance fell from his bangs to his eyebrows, his one eye automatically closed cautiously as the sprinkles were dangerously near his lashes.

"You sure bout' that?" The American asked again but really, Arthur was too preoccupied at the moment that all he received was an annoyed huff. Alfred did not like being ignored especially by the Brit, but maybe just this once, being partially ignored may lead to something that may be for his own amusement and benefit.

As they turned and joined the other cars on the road, Arthur noticed that Alfred was suddenly beaming with sunshine and rainbows and stars. But he knew that the other blond had always been like that since he first met him, but then again since he met him, he knew that Alfred only gave out too much of his happy aura when something happened according to his liking. And that something was not just any something. Most often than not, it had something to do with his ridiculous plans that usually involved Arthur. This trail of thought had the Brit's mind replay the conversation he half consciously partook and suddenly, everything was as bright as day and as clear as crystal.

They were going to Alfred's house.

"Hey, don't look at me like that, babe. It's your fault for not listening in the first place." Alfred cooed before Arthur could even voice out his protest. It was true, anyway, but still that did not mean he had to be forced to comply. Even so, he knew that whatever reason he threw at the American would be able to counter attack it so it was pointless.

"It's your fault for saying nonsense in the first place." He crossed his arms as Alfred shook his head. His confident grin grew wider by the second.

"Well this nonsense you speak of is bringing you home so, I really think it's your fault."

"Alfred, I am supposed to ignore unimportant, nonsensical thi— ah!"

"Oh just give up, Artie." The American laughed as he pinched the Englishman's cheek. "I'm gonna take you home and nothing you do and-slash-or say is gonna make me think otherwise."

Arthur scowled before leaning back in his seat as he sighed in defeat.

"Fine." He muttered and sent Alfred an effortless glare before turning his eyes back on the road. "Git."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chap's kind of cute... I guess. I don't know.
> 
> On to the next chapter! Because I love you guys. Tell me what you think about this one though!


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I typed 3/4 of this chapter with only one eye open. I am so talented. lol.

Alfred could not help the proud smile that formed on his face as he welcomed Arthur in his not so humble home, and the reason was that it was not as messy nor as dirty as the British man surely expected it to be. Though of course he owed his place's habitableness to his brother, Matthew, who by the way showed no signs that he was in the apartment. The man must have been bored without his presence around, and Alfred still felt a little guilty about leaving his brother after a year of not seeing him. Even so, just by looking at Arthur , he knew that he did not regret his decision. He promised to make it up to Matthew anyway.

"Well?" He nudged Arthur in the elbow as the Brit did not give an immediate response regarding the cleanliness of the place.

"Well what?" The sandy blond looked at him with a raised brow.

"What do you think?"

"About?"

When Alfred sighed, Arthur immediately knew the reason why the American looked disappointed. The Brit also knew that the taller blond most probably predicted that he would be caught off guard as his hopes of seeing a dumpsite condominium unit were not expected. But that did not mean that he was impressed, and so he grinned and walked past Alfred with a confident yet suspicious look.

"You planned all of this didn't you?" said Arthur as he ran a finger on the center table before examining his index to look for any traces of dust. Unfortunately, he found none. "Well except for the Ashley part."

Alfred rolled his eyes and closed the door behind him before following Arthur and letting gravity pull his ass down the couch. He crossed his legs, arms stretched with his elbows resting on back rest.

"I planned nothing, dude. You really think I'm incapable of cleaning my own place?"

"Do you really want me to answer that question?" The words faded in Arthur's mouth as his face suddenly looked disgusted at the sight of his cake-stained sleeve. When he turned to look at Alfred to ask where the shower was, the American was already on his feet before he could even speak.

"Shower's through that door," Alfred pointed at a door only a few steps away from where he stood. "And _this,"_ He held the knob of the door before him proudly. "this is my room."

Arthur only looked at him, and he himself had no idea if he was trying to impress the Brit with that highly uninteresting fact. He never really had to introduce his room to someone because it simply was not a normal thing to do.

Alfred began to feel conscious even if Arthur was only looking at him with curious eyes, obviously waiting for him to continue something as he kind of left that hanging atmosphere. He bit his lip and grasped on the metal in his hand, firmly turning and pushing the door slightly open as he stepped back with a light chuckle.

"Just gonna fetch ya' some clothes." He smiled then let his head fall a little to the side smugly and grinned. "Though to be honest, _I don't think you need'em_."

Arthur continued to look at him, blinking innocently and seemed to be unfazed. Alfred had to admit that the latter part of his sentence merely was a slip of the tongue. Something that came out naturally out of his mouth as they were his honest thoughts. He would have felt embarrassed to let those words out for Arthur, and he did not know if he should feel surprised about not regretting for the words to slip past his too talkative mouth.

Maybe it simply was a rewarding feeling to see Arthur's whole body stiffen for a second and his cheeks touched by the faintest shade of pink, almost unnoticeable, most probably invisible to unprofessional eyes. But over time he learned to notice just about everything. Just like his words, this _talent_ of noticing came out naturally.

"Do you want me to die?"

"Die?" Alfred raised a brow at the other.

The Englishman crossed his arms and frowned. Alfred felt his own lips pull down a few centimeters as well after not hearing the answer he expected. He thought that Arthur was going to attack him back with a witty, daring, and teasing response. But it seemed that the Brit was too irritable to entertain him.

"If you are not going to give me clothes, I will suffer from pneumonia." Arthur answered, sounding as if he was stating very obvious facts that Alfred stupidly had not heard of in his lifetime.

"You're no fun. I was obviously kidding. Pfft." The American rolled his eyes then waved his hand dismissively at the evidently not amused blond across him. "Whatever. Wait here."

Alfred quickly slipped past his door and it shut behind him in a soft thud. The room was dim with only the little bit of sunlight going past the thin, blue curtains. The window's blinds were gone and that little change gave him a foreign feeling but he did not complain. He knew better than to contradict his brother's decisions especially when he owed him so much.

His fingers clicked on the switch beside the doorframe without him looking, and in a second, his room was flooded with brightness. He was not able to really observe its state before he left since he was so hyped up to meet and reconcile with Arthur. There was not much of a change except that it was neat and organized. His action figures were shiny and looked brand new behind the glass of his built in cabinet. The poster above his bed frame was secured as the tapes on the corners were replaced.

The blankets suddenly moved and it _almost_ scared him. Almost, he convinced himself. He did not feel scared at all. Just surprised because who wouldn't, really? If it were not for his brother's face though, he would have ran out and barricaded the door.

Matthew stirred, a crease formed in his forehead and Alfred guessed that it was because of the bright light. He was not to blame though. He was sure that he had a guest room and Matthew could have just stayed there. But then again, he knew just how comfortable his own bed sheets were compared to the other room's bed which was merely covered with a thin, mocha colored comforters and a single pillow with a matching pillow case. His, however, was most probably the best there was in the market. Anyone would fall asleep within a minute or so after having been touched the soft covers. Most importantly, it was the perfect bed for cuddling… with Arthur.

Alfred brought his hands up his already pink cheeks and slapped them lightly, waking himself up from his daydream. Speaking of Arthur, the man was still outside waiting for him. With light but hurried footsteps, he began his search for a decent shirt and jeans, though he actually thought that his jeans would only fall off Arthur's waist considering how sexy— _thin,_ how thin the Brit was.

After half a minute of digging through his clothes, he let his arms fall to his sides as he took one deep breath in. Goodness, he needed to calm his shit down about Arthur.

" _Alfred?_ " His head whipped towards the door as Arthur's voice faintly came through. He knew what the other was going to say as he was completely aware of the Englishman's patience which was just as short as his attention span. He immediately went back to his search as he heard Arthur again. " _Will you please hurry up? I'm getting really uncomfortable here._ "

"Just a minute!" He answered loudly, realizing right after that there was a sleeping man in the same room. Alfred took a quick glance at Matthew and sighed in relief when the other was still fast asleep.

For the first time in his life, Alfred was cursing his wardrobe. His clothes were all too big for Arthur and he really did not want to place a bad impression on himself by giving the Brit loose and wrinkled shirts and shorts. Then there was the fear of Arthur thinking that he showed no concern towards him as Alfred gave him _ugly_ clothes. He was also afraid that Arthur might call him a fatty.

" _Alfred!?_ "

Ah, fuck it. He did not care anymore. His hands grabbed a random pair of clothes in haste before he bolted out of his room. He could only hope for the best.

Closing the door behind him as gentle as possible, he found Arthur crouching down and staring at a picture frame on the corner table beside his couch. His appearance though took the Brit's attention, and so the sandy blond stood up and crossed his arms.

"About time you come out. I was afraid you had Narnia in your closet." Arthur asked with a scowl, his green eyes not leaving Alfred's form as the American walked towards him.

"I'm sorry your majesty. I had to pick the nicest clothes for you, else I might be given a lifetime's worth of sermon." Alfred's arm was hit the moment he stood beside Arthur, a chuckle escaped him as he handed the clothes he randomly chose. He had no idea what they were, and it when he said he picked the best choice among his shirts, it was a lie as he spent most of the time in his room trying to calm himself down."So, what're you looking at?"

His eyes wandered down the photo that Arthur was staring at. It was their family picture.

"I was looking at the table because it is so bloody interesting." The Brit muttered sarcastically, something which Alfred was already more than used to hearing. He stuck out his tongue in reply and Arthur only rolled his eyes at him before giving the man a proper answer. "It's your family picture. I just never thought you'd have one in your home."

Alfred glanced at him with a raised brow.

"Never took me for a family person? Well babe, you got it all wrong." He grinned and unexpectedly, he saw the faintest blush crawl up the Briton's cheeks before the man turned around swiftly and headed towards the bathroom.

"I-I don't care. It's just that you're a bachelor and… ugh, whatever, do what you want. I'm going to get myself cleaned up." With a huff, Arthur was gone and the sound of gushing water soon followed after a minute. It was only then that Alfred fled back inside his room to take a bath on the connecting shower from his bedroom.

* * *

"Ow! Don't fucking press on it!" Gilbert hissed and pried the ice bag away from his cheek. The bruise inflicted on him by Elizabetha was bluish with a hint of red.

"Stop complaining. It's your entire damn fault in the first place." Bella argued and forced the man's face to meet the ice bag she held. The German flinched and cried out upon contact, and after a few seconds he moved back again to relieve himself from the painful cold of the ice.

"How is it my fault!? If she only listened to me first then none of this would have happened!" The silver haired man pointed accusingly at Elizabetha who was sitting on the other end of the table, a safe distance away from him. When the woman glared at the finger and her jaw clenched, Gilbert immediately withdrew his arm and hid it behind him. "See!? See!? I told you guys!"

"Oh so now it's my fault?" Elizabetha stood up and slammed her hands on the table. "Your big mouth's responsible for this! You didn't even try to stop it from spilling out information!"

"Oh come one! I already told you that I didn't say it because I want to ruin their _date_ — if you can actually call it that," The green eyed woman hissed at the comment but Gilbert still carried on. "I just thought that maybe Ashley would finally stop if she saw them being cute and _lovey-dovey_ together!"

"But you only made matters worse!"

"Oh yeah? How did you know? Do you have a spy cam attached on any of them or something?"

"Well no but—"

"GOTCHA!" Gilbert stood up, his hands raised in the air as he yelled victoriously. "Now, apologize to me, woman!"

Elizabetha stared at him in shock. She gasped, raised a brow, and then took a threatening step around the table which immediately had Gilbert hide behind Bella who could only shake her head in disbelief. The other people in the room wore the same defeated faces, and one by one they began to leave the four people who originally were involved in the conflict. When Elizabetha took another dangerous step, Scott finally stretched out a hand and forcedly pulled her back to sit.

"Will you both fucking shut up?" Scott firmly pressed Elizabetha down the chair to prevent her from attacking Gilbert. Bella pulled Gilbert away from her pushed him down the chair before she held the man's chin and gently placed the ice bad on the bruise.

"Don't move. It's bothersome." Bella snapped but Gilbert continued to squirm and complain. "Stay fucking still or I'll put a bruise on your other cheek to make it even!"

"You don't mean that!" The man whined but Bella stared at him challengingly.

"Try me."

"N-no thanks." He pouted and let the short haired blond take care of him, his eyes fixated on the floor as he muttered something about how scary women were. His shoulders tensed every time Bella's hand would grip his chin to keep his face still whenever he would unconsciously turn to look at something else.

The four of them were silent for a long while, with Bella attending to Gilbert, and Scott tapping away on his phone while constantly glancing at Elizabetha to make sure she would never make it past his seat if ever she once again tried to hit Gilbert with a frying pan for the third time. The woman still had destruction etched on her face, and her lips muttered curses attached to Gilbert's name. If words were deadly, the German would have long lying six feet below the ground.

Scott huffed and tossed his phone lazily on the table, causing it to spin a few degrees. He crossed his arms, hung his head lazily to the side and looked at Elizabetha then at Gilbert with tired eyes. He felt patience running thin just by watching the two have their own litany of murder plans for each other. The problem was so simple yet his coworkers were making a very big deal out of it.

"Oi," He cocked his head to the side and caught Elizabetha's stiff stare. "if you're all so bloody concerned, why don't you try calling them?" When the woman's face lit up with a look of realization, Scott could not help but judge her. With a sigh, his palms rubbed the back of his neck, and then it crawled on his cheek as he leaned forward and rested his elbow on the table. "Are you kidding me? You cannot be _that_ stupid."

He heard Gilbert's protests about the accusation, but Scott knew better than entertain the loud German on the other side of the room. Elizabetha however, remained her mouth shut _thankfully_. Her phone was in her hands within seconds and the whole room fell silent as she place it on her ear. With each ring, her eyebrows curved and the suspense continued to rise.

"Arthur's not answering." She finally said after a while, her lips pulling down further as the other three sighed in exasperation. Elizabetha stared back at her phone and began dialing once more. "I'll try calling Alfred."

* * *

Matthew groaned from under the sheets as Alfred's phone violently rang on the bedside table. The sound it made against the glass furniture was rather unpleasant, and as much as he wanted to throw the damned phone against the wall, he would rather not if it meant his brother's never ending wails and complaints despite having the financial capacity to own ten more mobiles phones.

He tried calling Alfred, with only a door and a shower curtain separating them, but the gush of water and the American's awful singing drowned away his own sleepy voice. It took a long while before Alfred's phone calmed down, but then by that time, Matthew found himself unable to go back to sleep.

He sat up and scratched his head in frustration. Not being able to go back to sleep was the very reason why he did not want anyone to interrupt it.

With an evident, dissatisfied frown on his face, he swung his legs to the side of the bed and got up. His throat felt dry, and he needed to wash his face to freshen it up. When he tried to turn the knob of the connecting shower room though, he was surprised for a few seconds to find it locked. It slowly dawned on him slowly that Alfred had already returned. He was too sleepy moments ago to even register that his brother's bothersome phone was an obvious sign that Alfred was back.

Matthew stared at the door for a few seconds, thinking if knocking on the door and telling Alfred to speed up would get him somewhere. But as he heard the American begin to terribly try to hit the high notes of whatever song he was singing, Matthew took a step back, shook his head, and then lazily walked outside the bedroom.

There were two bathrooms in the place for a reason.

Matthew dragged his feet across the living room, tying his hair up loosely in the process with the elastic he always wore around his wrist. With a bobby pin, he secured his bangs up his head until nothing was annoyingly hanging in front of his eyes. It just did not feel comfortable to have the tips of his hair wet and clinging to his skin every time he would wash his face, and to be honest, having his hair swept back and tied up made him feel neat. If it were not for his incredibly similar face structure with Alfred's which always made people mistook him for, he would have his hair either tied or cut.

He suddenly found himself irritated just by the thought of it, but the feeling soon disappeared to be a surprise when the bathroom door opened by itself with his hands merely inches away from the door knob.

When green eyes that were equally wide as his own greeted him, he quickly threw away the idea that the door opened on its own and was alive, after which did he realize that he was staring at someone that was unfamiliar… except for the clothes that the stranger was wearing. He knew them to be Alfred's and that kind of gave him a clue of the bushy-browed man's identity. The folded clothes in his arm must be his.

Slowly, he noticed the man's face look confused and it was as if he was being carefully analyzed by the stranger and it made him realize that the if stranger was who he thought he was, it only meant that he was already being mistaken for—

"You are not Alfred, are you?" The man stepped forward and closed the door behind him, his green eyes unwavering as he shyly smiled. "I am sorry for the intrusion but Alfred happened to bring me here for highly reasonable er… reasons."

The accent was heavily and undeniably English, and this face was only proving his assumptions true. Despite this, it was not the man's nationality that surprised him but rather, it was that this stranger did not mistake him for his brother. All the people he met never failed to mistake him for Alfred, and it actually was saddening that their own parents were the same most often. When he said all, he meant _all_ and it was not an exaggeration. That was why he found it surprising, extremely surprising. With his hair neatly tied up away from his face, he himself sometimes thought that it was his brother he was seeing in front of the mirror.

It was hard to recover from the shock but he tried to. He returned the small smile on the man's face and immediately offered a hand as it was obviously the politest thing to do when meeting a new person. Matthew also thought that it was the perfect chance to know the stranger's identity.

"No problem with that. Are you friends with Al? I'm not sure we've met before."

"Ah, of course." The man raised his own hand and held his for a friendly shake. "It's Arthur, Arthur Kirkland."

_BINGO!_

So this was Arthur, the Arthur that turned Alfred's world upside down and inside out. He did not want to admit it, but he could clearly see _why._ No homo, but the Kirkland guy despite his thick eyebrows which Alfred surprisingly missed to tell him, was undeniably gorgeous that it almost made him feel insecure.

"So you're Arthur! It's nice to finally meet you!" He carefully observed the changes in the other's expression, hoping he would catch a look of discomfort, anything that would give away the _lie._ It was not like he had something against the Englishman, he simply wanted to find a fault in his and Alfred's _acting._

If he was going to be honest, he wanted this whole game to stop because first of all it was not going to do both Arthur and Alfred any good. They were fooling people in the first place, and if Alfred had not told him the truth, he would be one of those who would believe them and just the thought of it made his heart sink. He did not know why Arthur agreed and tolerated his brother's antics, but he did not want to judge and the Brit seemed like a very nice person.

"Al's told me lots about you." He firmly held the sandy blond's hand and shook it as he tried not to show any hints of disappointment on his face when Arthur seemed _genuinely_ flattered. Was it good acting? Or was it something else? Arthur only kept him wondering as the seconds passed by. "I'm Matthew by the way, Alfred's—"

" _BRO!_ "

The sound of the door slammed against the wall startled the two. Their heads whipped towards the source and was not actually surprised to see Alfred standing by the threshold with his wrinkled clothes and dripping, uncombed hair. His blue eyes were wide open and travelled between the silenced blonds from across the room.

"Y-you've met…" Alfred held his finger up and pointed at them. His face was taken over by panic which made Matthew sigh and Arthur to roll his eyes.

"Obviously." Matthew chuckled and walked towards the kitchen as he untied his hair while Arthur remained in his spot, unsure of what he was supposed to do.

From the corner of his eyes, Matthew watched his brother march up to Arthur as he began to brew coffee on the counter. The way Alfred's hands held the other's arms were noticeable, and from the looks on the blonds' faces, he could tell that his brother was interrogating the poor Brit. He did not need to hear their voices just to know what Alfred was asking him. It took a lot of reassuring phrases and sighs before the American finally calmed down. He took the opportunity to call their attention.

"Would you guys like some coffee?"

Their heads turned to look at him, and while Alfred stared at him with suspicious eyes which he ignored, Arthur walked past him and began to approach the counter with a tiny but polite smile.

"Thank you but I'm not a coffee person." The Brit said as he took slowly steps with Alfred following closely behind. Another observation Matthew made was the way his brother's eyes were now wandering up and down at the Brit's body with an evident blush on his cheeks. If it were not for said man's presence, he would have doused the American with cold water.

"I'm not stereotyping but you prefer tea, don't you?" He carefully poured hot water in his mug. "Alfred hates tea so I'm afraid there aren't any."

The mention of his name made Alfred look at Matthew and glare at him while Arthur laughed as he leaned forward on the counter, mindlessly observing the way the coffee was being prepared.

"It's alright. He had insulted tea quite a number of times before. In fact, it would surprise me if he did possess at least a box of… what do you call it, love?" Arthur turned his head towards Alfred who was now standing beside him, a little surprised at the pet name. Matthew had to put an effort on stopping himself from laughing. It was the first time he had seen Alfred _blush._ Arthur quickly turned his attention back at him however, much to Alfred's dismay. "Oh, _leaf water._ "

"W-well technically that stuff's made of, you know, so it's a l-legit nickname." Alfred countered with futile attempts on composing himself.

"Whatever you say." Arthur sighed and straightened his back. "Anyway, I need these washed so I could change back." The Brit frowned as he looked at the stained button shirt on his hands. To the Brit's dismay however, Alfred chose to be uncooperative and somehow, Matthew sensed that he had to turn his back against them, deciding to cook pancakes for the three of them. He had been craving them anyway since he arrived.

"There's no need for that. I don't mind ya' wearing my clothes." Alfred's voice faltered a bit at the end as he eyed the Brit up and down. He only came to realize moments ago that he gave Arthur his jersey shirt back from when he was a college athlete heartthrob. The word _JONES_ was printed evidently at the back above his number. Aside from how cute the Brit looked in his shirt which was too big for the other's body, seeing his surname on Arthur made him feel… _accomplished._

 _Arthur K. Jones._ He knew he would never get tired of hearing it. "It's too big for me, in case you can't tell."

"So? It's makes it a lot more comfy to wear! Admit it, it feels good to wear my clothes." Alfred grinned when Arthur's cheeks flushed red. Too bad Matthew already busied himself with his food obsession. Seeing the Brit in an embarrassed state was just as priceless as anything else that had to do with him.

"I-it's not—"

"Besides," He rested his elbow on the counter with his chin on his palm. His eyes twinkled with amusement as he smirked and spoke in a low voice. "I like the way you look in my shirt. _You're fucking cute."_

Arthur was red up to his ears. His mouth was open but no words, not even a sound came out. With his peripherals, Alfred saw his younger brother flinch at the comment, and he had never felt more victorious in the past hour. He was sure that their brotherly bonding would be twice as interesting as before and he could not wait to pour his _feels_ out to Matthew.

"E-excuse me?" The Englishman sputtered, closed his eyes, and then took a deep breath before slapping Alfred's arm with unbelievable strength which made said American gasp.

"Ouch! What was that for!?"He asked but Arthur did not answer back and instead marched away, probably deciding to find the laundry room without Alfred's help for all he cared. "H-hey wait!"

The two's retreating footsteps finally had Matthew release the breath which he had no idea he had been holding. It was then that he realized he cracked too many eggs and the bowl was close to overflowing. But he really could not blame himself, could he? Alfred and Arthur were effortlessly acting like sweethearts that he actually felt they were no longer trying to keep in character, but rather, those moments and interactions were already _normal._ If what had transpired moments ago were purely acting, god he did not know what to think anymore.

He stole a glance from time to time, and the blushes on their faces (especially the one on Arthur's) were impossible to fake. Was it actually possible to pretend to blush?

Matthew turned his head and found the two arguing. Well not really arguing, more like Alfred teasing and Arthur being terribly embarrassed as his pretend boyfriend was trying to prevent him from opening the laundry room's door while

laughing. The idiot was enjoying this too much, he thought, and he could no longer tell if it was a good thing or not.

And then there was Arthur. Surely the Brit was careful enough not to act grumpily at his brother with someone else's presence. But still, Matthew cannot convince himself that the Englishman was still acting because he just cannot be _that_ good. He did not want to consider the idea but, maybe there actually was a chance for Alfred to officially make Arthur his lover?

It was a ridiculous thought, and he instantly shook it off his head as he decided to continue working. The pancakes were not going to cook themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, I made most of this with only one eye open so there may be twice as much mistakes in grammar and spelling and whatever. Point is, I'm fucking talented.  
> SOOOOO what do you guys think? Two chapters because I love you guys and I know I've been gone for a long while and I'll probably be gone for another long while.  
> My finals will start tomorrow! And I made this because I NEEDED A DISTRACTION and I really cannot concentrate if my feels are overflowing.  
> TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! It's quite cheesy but your reviews inspire me. So thanks as always!
> 
> I'm thinking about Peter saying this line sometime, somewhere in the future chapters: "You're totally gay. Stop denying it."  
> BYYEEEE for now!


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what I'm doing with my life but I passed the exams with flying gay colors and so here's another chapter! Weeeee~

Alfred whistled his way towards the kitchen as he left the still pissed off Englishman on the couch. After wasting minutes of trying to block Arthur from the laundry room, the Brit was able to go past him. Though of course the process hurt a ton since the other resulted to violence just to get to the door. His toes still stung after being harshly stepped at, but he later found out that the pain was worth it when they both discovered that the washing machine was broken for reasons that Alfred really did not care to find out.

"Yo, Mattie." He draped an arm over his brother who did not even bother to spare him a glance. "Watcha' making?" "What does it look like I'm making?"

"Uh, pancakes?"

The other nodded his head and stepped away from him to begin heating up the pan. Alfred followed closely, leaning by the kitchen sink as he quietly watched his brother expertly cook the food which his brother never got tired of. The silence however, began to bother him as always. His eyes slowly drifted back at Arthur who was still sitting at on the couch as his attention was currently held by the television. After the great disappointment of not being able to wash his clothes,

Alfred had to do something that will divert the Brit's attention away from his soiled uniform. Thus, the series on the screen. The American was simply thankful that he had a copy of Doctor Who. It was Peter's recommendation, and he just had to see it after knowing that it was one of Arthur's favorite shows.

Seeing the Brit hug the pillow overwhelmingly, he could not hide the proud smile on his face.

"You're hopeless." He heard Matthew mumble beside him, and without tearing his eyes away from Arthur, he nodded his head.

"I know." Alfred bit his lip and then finally turned around. His hands rested against the counter as he stared at the pancakes on the pan. They slowly rose, and Matthew professionally turned them around. "So, what do you think?"

"About Arthur?" Matthew asked as he tossed the first pancake on the plate to his other side. "Are you asking for my approval? He isn't really your boyfriend, Al."

The American cringed upon hearing it.

"Yeah well, I still wanna know what you think about him though."

The younger blond stopped and dropped the spoon back on the bowl. He then turned his head and looked at Alfred, meeting the other's blue eyes which were of a lighter shade than his. It did not seem like his brother was joking. Contrary to that, he was met with a very serious look that he never knew Alfred was capable of pulling.

He hummed, thinking for a second before he turned and continued cooking. "He's nice."

Alfred continued to stare and wait for more, but when Matthew looked at him with a raised brow, he sighed in disbelief. "Is that all?"

"Yes. What else do you wanna hear from me?"

"Oh I don't know. Like maybe, how pretty his eyes are?"

Matthew sighed, flipped the pancake, and then sighed again, not really wanting to waste any more of his breath in answering a question he was not supposed to answer endearingly.

After a while had passed without being given a reply to what he also realized was kind of a stupid question to ask considering that his brother did not harbor the same feelings he did towards the Englishman, Alfred breathed in and gather the air in his mouth, puffing his cheeks. The lids of his eyes half dropped as he let the air out.

"Of course you wouldn't notice. Not the way I see them anyhow." He glanced over his shoulder to check on Arthur. His heart thumped a beat faster when he saw that the Englishman had not moved an inch, still hugging the pillow in between his chest and thighs as he pulled his feet up in a comfortable position. Alfred cannot see Arthur's face, but he really did not have to see it to know what kind of expression the sandy blonde wore as of the moment.

Completely turning and facing the living room, Alfred leaned behind him and swayed his body toward his brother slightly as if to whisper.

"I know it's kinda late but," He spoke in a low and hushed tone, head turning to face his brother again. "please pretend you don't know anything."

"By anything, you mean the truth?" Matthew's voice was equally low and the American could sense the negativity in the other's voice. Despite the guilt eating him, Alfred nodded his head and fixed a smile on his face in an attempt to make things seem brighter.

"Yeah. Keep up the good work… I guess."

At this point, Matthew dropped everything he was holding and turned off the heat. Alfred knew that he was up for a brief and hushed lecture. He took another glance at Arthur, making sure that the Brit had not sensed what was going on, more so, what was going to happen. When he casted his eyes back at his brother, the blond had one hand resting on his hip as the other rested beside the stove and supported his weight.

"Alfred," Matthew began, his voice was soft yet stern. "I know it's not the time for this but you do realize that nothing good's gonna come out of this. You're asking him to lie to everybody, he agreed and I'm not judging him for that. But then, you're going to lie to the person you asked to lie for you, which is like a kind of betrayal because for all I know, this secret, this pretending-to-date thing of yours has built quite a _relationship_ and no, not that _kind_ of relationship you're wishing for but it's kinda the same and, and—" The younger man breathed in and out, catching his breath and calming himself at the same time. "Point is, in the world that you both created with your, _lies—_ I don't wanna make it sound bad but I can't think of another word— above anyone and anything else, Alfred, Arthur trusts you." Alfred opened his mouth to respond but he was quickly cut. "And _no,_ I'm not over reacting nor thinking about this too much."

Cold sweat crawled down the side of Alfred's cheeks. He quickly wiped it off and smiled, much to other's surprise yet utter disbelief.

"I'm sorry Mattie. I can't really help but be selfish right now."

He felt really bad, that much was obvious. Arthur would be the least of the least of persons he would want to lie to, and quite honestly he really did not think that the Brit would hate him if ever he found out. Knowing Arthur, the Englishman would not make a big deal out of this matter, but he still would demand an explanation in the calmest way possible for as long Alfred's approach did not include shouting and being rude just like he did days before.

But still, hearing Matthew lay out the downside of his decision right at his face made him feel worse and undeserving of Arthur.

"Alright," Matthew flicked his forehead, disrupting his weighing thoughts effectively. The stove was turned on, and the bowl of the remaining Pancake mixture was once again cradled in the man's arms as a scoopful of it was poured carefully on the pan. "I'll pretend I don't know. But whatever happens in the future—ah screw it. I'll always be there for you whatever happens anyway so there's no point in trying to scare you. Besides, you're an adult now so I know you'll be a hundred percent responsible for your decisions. I'll only be there for your support, if ever. Understood?"

"Oh my god, thank you!"

Alfred's face brightened almost instantly the moment Matthew finally flashed him a smile. The American saluted then threw himself to give the other a tight hug. The bowl on the other's hand's almost slipped and they almost fell over the stove. They both gasped in fear, Alfred immediately pulling himself away from his brother, a goofy smile plastered on his face. When Matthew turned his head and glared, he stuck his tongue out, laughed, and walked away as he mouthed ' _you're the best brother in the whole wide world.'_ To which, Matthew replied as he rolled his eyes, ' _I'm the only brother you have, stupid.'_

Alfred chuckled and walked over to a still hunched Arthur.

_The world was cruel_ , Arthur thought as the credits rolled. Another character just died, and it was not as if it was something new, really. But even so, he still felt really sad whenever it happened and that was not going to change. A single tear drop was just about to crawl off his eye and he was trying very hard to keep it there, hoping it would just disappear. He was too caught up with a mixture of emotions when an American appeared below him, crouching down and looking up at him to his surprise. By instinct, he had the pillow pressed against Alfred's face.

There was struggling of course, and it did not take long before Alfred had his wrists held firmly that he dropped the pillow on the floor. The American pouted up at him and kicked the damned thing that almost suffocated him a few feet away.

Before the American spoke, the single tear drop he had been trying so hard to stop from falling suddenly fell and to his dismay, another diligently followed that he was not able to do anything but stare back at an equally surprised Alfred. It did not however, take long before a grin became present on the other blond's face and Arthur knew he had to find another pillow to slam on the other before he could even say anything.

Unfortunately, his wrists were still not free and he was also deprived of the right to cover his face as Alfred began laughing.

"Oh my god, are you crying? Oh my god, Artie!"

"I'm not! I don't even— ugh what the hell." Alfred let one hand go and he was more than happy to finally get rid of those two damn tear drops off his face. He glared at the American. "See? I'm not really crying. Two tear drops do not prove anything."

"Yeah right." Alfred laughed and looked at the television. The next episode already started playing. He grabbed the remote and paused it before sitting beside Arthur up on the couch. "I haven't really started on it yet so I'm not gonna judge you."

"Are you serious? Shame on you."He nudged the American with his elbow and rolled his eyes, quickly wiping another troublesome tear that crawled out of his eyes without his consent. To his dismay, Alfred saw it and without warning, he found himself trapped in the other's arms.

"Hey, move closer." The other whispered and then he was pulled further into the other's embrace, his nose buried deep against the crook of Alfred's neck.

"Wha—"

"I don't want Mattie to suspect a thing." Alfred quickly reasoned as he casted a wary glance at his brother, making Arthur do the same as well. "He's a very smart guy you know, and have known me since we were kids so I don't really think he's buying this you're-my-boyfriend thing, _and_ you weren't exactly sweet towards me a while ago."

Arthur's brows furrowed as his eyes were back at Alfred's. A part of him somehow did not want to believe what the other was saying, but then another part of him was convinced. Then he thought, there really was no reason to doubt what the other was saying because there was no room for that all. Everything was logical, in fact, and it was true that he kind of slipped to talking and acting like his usual self. He even almost shouted at Alfred, and now he was thinking about how dumb he was for being careless. But it was not really that big of a deal. Couples did have those kind of moments, but considering what Alfred told him about his brother who did know like the back of his hand, Arthur had every reason to be cautious.

He imagined himself in Matthew's place and thought that if Peter were to suddenly tell him he was gay, he would not hate him for that, but that did not mean that he will instantly believe it. There would always be the stage of in denial and he was sure that Matthew was currently going through it. Every movement and every word from him would be doubted, and it might take some time to convince the blond that he and Alfred were indeed together.

Except that they were not really together at all, just trying to act like they were when in fact they really were not.

That trail of thought, for some unexplainable reason, gave him the feeling that he just lost all of his conviction. It was just a feeling though, and he quickly dumped it away at the back of his mind.

"What now? You want me to cuddle with you?" He said as lamely as he could, trying his best not to let out a squeak as the embarrassing words breathlessly flew out his mouth. His body slumped over Alfred's chest just so he could hide his face away from the other's eyes.

Arthur was not sure what kind of expression he wore at the moment, but it gave him a strong feeling that Alfred should not see it. It also gave him a feeling that he should not see his own face as well because he was sure of one thing, and that was that his cheeks had gone a mad shade of pink. It was not a difficult task to feel your cheeks heat up and just know that it had turned into a different color than normal.

Feeling a hand gently settle on his back, Arthur slowly gave out a shaky breath, relieved that the American was content with the way he surrendered to the idea. He still had to calm his heart and make it return to its normal beating pace. He

also needed to stabilize his breathing, and dealing with Alfred's persistent attitude was not going to help. "I was gonna settle for your head on my shoulder but this is better."

"This is… er," He could hear the cheeky smile of the American taunting him. Arthur rolled his eyes, his breathing returning to normal. _Thank god._ But with the somewhat intoxicating smell of Alfred's perfume, he knew that he would be hyperventilating soon if he did nothing and continued to stay in that position. "this is awkward."

"You think so?" Alfred asked in an unusual monotone voice. He nodded his head and slowly pushed himself off the other, now confident that his blaring red cheeks had turned back to its original pale color. Though just to be sure, he did not let the other look at his face for more than a second as he turned and let his head fall on the other blond's shoulder.

"Now this, this is better." He shifted a bit, hugging his legs and intertwining his own fingers above his exposed knees as the shorts that Alfred gave him feel mid thigh. "It is much more comfortable too. Besides, your perfume's too strong and I do not really wish to bury my nose on the spot where you sprayed it."

Alfred quirked an eyebrow and tried to look down at him, but from where his face was, all he could see was Arthur's blond hair.

"But I didn't spray any." He heard sniffing sounds. "Must be the shampoo though, or the soap. They're really good. You should try them sometime."

Arthur scoffed and wrinkled his nose, completely missing the frustrated look on the American's face. "No thank you."

* * *

He and Arthur were left to wash and dry the dishes at the kitchen as Alfred frantically searched for his car keys. The Brit was already itching to go home, saying that his little brother was waiting for him. This little piece of information caught Matthew's interest, and as his obnoxious brother was currently messing up the room he just cleaned during his search, he took the opportunity to ask Arthur subtle yet meaningful questions that might help him understand further why Alfred was so adamant on keeping the Englishman company. And of course, it went without saying that he was still curious as to why, of all people and seemingly impossible circumstances, Alfred fell in love with this guy.

"You have a younger brother?"

"Yes." Matthew did not fail to notice how Arthur's face seemed to brighten even if just a little, though the Englishman's eyes were still on the plates he carefully washed despite Matthew insisting that he was a visitor and he need not do those things. "His name is Peter. He's 15."

"15? And you are?"

"23. It's an eight-year age gap." Arthur chuckled at Matthew's surprised face. He gently then handed the wet plate to the other blond who—after their short argument on who should wash the dishes and who should just stand and do nothing— was in charge of wiping them dry and returning up the cupboards after.

"It must be hard. I mean, Alfred's older than me but he acts like he's younger so I kind of know how it's like to be in your position and," He opened the cupboard and reached up, gently placing the plate on top of the others. "it's kinda hard for me to take care of him despite the age gap of only a year. That being said," Matthew paused and leaned back against the kitchen counter as he bit his lip, a sign of hesitation on whether to continue or not. "I'm wondering how you managed to put up with him for months. I mean I understand that he's got this irresistible side but…"

If his eyes only worked the way Alfred's very own 'Arthur-observant' eyes did, he would have noticed how the Englishman's whole body stiffened for a few seconds at the question. But since he did not, he felt rather disappointed that his seemingly innocent question was not able to at least place a fault on the other's almost-if-not perfect demeanor regarding this whole act thing.

If he could only see his face however, and the reddened ears that were half hidden within the Brit's blond locks, Matthew might be questioning if everything was indeed just a whole, childish prank.

It took a while for Arthur to answer, but that hardly counted to be suspicious enough for any individual who had no idea what really was going on.

"He is quite a handful, I will admit that." He could hear the smile on Arthur's voice. "But I think that adds up to his charm. Though of course it can be a bit annoying sometimes but I cannot really stay mad at him for long. Just like you said, he has this irresistible side. I think that is what got me into him in the first place."

There were words he could think of that would describe Arthur Kirkland. So far, after what he had witnessed prior their conversation, he could tell that the blond was caring, short-tempered when it came to Alfred's stupid antics but in a totally mother hen kind of way. The way he wiped the syrup off at the corner of the American's lips as he preached etiquette gave Matthew that impression. Also, Arthur was obviously the prim-and-proper kind of guy. His movements were graceful, his posture was good, and his manner of speaking had hints of elegance and formality that anyone would think he belonged to the highest class of social hierarchy.

And now, Matthew deemed Arthur to be a half-opened book; he could sense the honesty in his words, but he cannot tell which was real and which was not. He could read him, but he cannot understand. He let out a breath through his nose as he took another plate from Arthur's hands and began wiping them dry. It was still too early to try and figure out Arthur and be successful with it. They only met and had known each other for more than an hour or two, and he was positive that they would see each other frequently given that Alfred was a crazy and persistent guy. It was too early to assume and jump to conclusions.

Before he could even open his mouth, Alfred's cheery voice bounced off the kitchen walls and least to say, it startled him. Arthur looked over his shoulder while Matthew turned around to give Alfred the best disapproving look he could manage. But of course he was deliberately ignored, the American's attention focused solely on the Englishman beside him.

"I found my keys!" Alfred brought them up and shook them, producing soft chiming sounds.

Arthur raised a brow. "And where did you find them?"

"In the bathroom. Must've fell off when I was getting naked."

Arthur rolled his eyes and turned back to the task at hand while Matthew snorted beside him.

"The last bit wasn't necessary." He pointed out before putting the plate he held inside the cupboard. Another one was handed to him almost instantly, and he did the whole wiping routine again as Arthur went for the clean towel that hung on the fridge's handle to dry his hands.

"Not for you." Alfred answered back with a wink, and both their eyes automatically darted at the Englishman's figure whose back was turned against them at the moment. After which, he shook his head and sighed disbelievingly at Alfred.

"First," Arthur turned around and slowly walked toward the American. "It is, ' _it must have_ ** _fallen_** _off._ " Second, the last bit was indeed unnecessary since that fact was too obvious to be stated."

"Does that mean that you're actually imagining me naked? Or like, expected me to be naked? Or—"

"Oh belt up. I don't think about your naked body all the time. Hardly, in fact." Arthur flicked a finger on Alfred's forehead the moment he neared him. Then with a smirk, he went past the American, throwing the other with a challenging stare. "I wouldn't mind you making me though. Try _hard_ er."

At this point, the moment Arthur turned and disappeared from the kitchen, Matthew thought that the Englishman did possess his own witty charms as well and that most probably got Alfred. He almost let out a laugh upon seeing yet another blush crawl on his brother's cheeks. Said brother was glaring at him, still barely able to move an inch for a while before he was able to stomp his way toward Matthew.

"Did you see that!?" The American almost shouted but he happened to contain his words in a whisper. "He… he just— that was like an implication of sex. Well sort of… oh my god."

"Well I didn't catch clearly what he just told you, but the look in his eyes and you reaction's enough for me to understand what just happened." Matthew clicked his tongue at the other before shoving him off slightly away as he straightened his back. "He's impressive you know. I think I'm beginning to understand what made you like this. But at the same time I think I should be more concerned. He's obliviously seducing you and that's really bad."

"But I like it."

"And that's another bad problem. We'll talk about this when you get back home." Matthew patted Alfred's shoulders with a worried face before walking past him. The American followed closely behind and they both saw Arthur sitting on the couch as he neatly folded his cake-stained clothes over his lap, careful not to let the dirtied parts touch the shirt he currently wore against his will.

"Ready to go?" Alfred practically leaped from behind Matthew to where Arthur sat. His brother quietly observed how the

American attempted to snake his arms around the smaller blond yet failing in a matter of a second when Arthur stood up from his seat, completely unaware of the embrace that was supposed to pin him still.

"Yes I am." Arthur answered with a smile, an all too innocent smile that made Matthew feel really bad for Alfred. Said man quickly covered his failed attempts with a laugh the moment Arthur turned to look at him. "Let's go?"

"Y-yeah."

The goodbyes were brief. Arthur said his thanks and apologies toward Matthew for coming unannounced and disturbing his sleep somehow (though both of them were aware that it was Alfred's fault). After reassuring the Brit that it was not a big deal and that he was actually delighted to finally meet him, the "couple" were out the door and on the streets, driving past cars with their usual nonsensical bickering about what had happened.

"Why must you always come to me every time you fail?" Francis rubbed his temples as he sat back on his swiveling chair, hoping to at least receive the comfort he needed as Ashley was lashing out at him again with yet another unsuccessful plan. It was hardly 12 hours since she ranted about how he was being a useless pussy, and now she was bawling her eyes out. "Do I really look like I care about whatever's happening in your personal life?"

"Shut up!" She slammed her fist on the desk before wiping the messy stream of black tears brought by her mascara. "As far as I know, you _are_ involved in my personal life!"

"No, I am not. Everything you do is none of my business even if it involves your pathetic plans on seducing Alfred away from Arthur."

"How can you say that!? You're just the same as me." Ashley stood up and leaned forward, fists curled against Frenchman's desk. "Don't you love Arthur? If you do then why don't you just team up with me? Why don't you just— wait! Where the hell are you going?"

Francis abruptly stood up and went for the door, not bothering to take his white coat off as his top priority was to be as far away as possible from Ashley. The woman was emotionally hurt in one of the worst ways possible and he could not bear to watch her cry despite knowing how evil she truly was. Furthermore, she was right about one thing; they were both the same in a way, and it was not of the best reasons he could think of.

He stormed out his clinic, startling his secretary and a few people in the corridor as he half-walked half-jogged towards the elevator at the end of the hallway. Ashley was following him closely behind and he could very well estimate their distance through the sound of her heels clicking against the white floor.

"Francis wait! You can't just leave me!" She caught up to him, and her sharp nails dug in deep Francis' wrist, making the doctor stop and turn around in haste.

"How many times do I have to tell you that there is no way I am going to cooperate with you. Yes I do love Arthur, but unlike you, I'm not forcing myself to him. I'm not forcing my love to him. I am not forcing him to think that Alfred Jones is one fucking asshole. I am not forcing him to do or think or feel what I want him to even if that's what I crave for badly. And you know what? Even if it looks impossible, even if it seems that nothing's changing, I know, I _know_ that somehow, even if it's barely noticeable, my patience _is_ paying off." Francis pulled his wrist away and rubbed where Ashley's nails were in an attempt to soothe the pain. He turned around, but before he reached more than five steps he spoke softly, yet loud enough for her to hear. "Forcing someone to love you is not going to get you anywhere."

And then he walked away faster, barely making it to the elevator yet someone was kind enough to hold it for him. When he turned to face front, his heart broke a little to see the woman standing still in the middle of the white walls. He could only hope that his words would get through her, and that she would understand what he was trying to say. It may have been a cruel form, but Francis actually tried to give her a sense of direction, an advice of some sort on what to do next. A change of tactic, strategy, approach.

"Thank you." He gave the other man present an appreciative nod and it was politely returned. "It's no problem."

It seemed like an eternity before the elevator's doors shut close and he could only lean back against the metal wall as he tried to catch his breath.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm choosing to include all the original notes of the author in this re-upload


End file.
